Re part 7 - Reflection
by BlackFrostWarrior
Summary: A vicious Hydra. A harmless flash of light. They thought it was over. But they were wrong. Probably AU, no slash or pairing. Semi-official final part of Re.
1. Prologue

**_A/N: This is the semi-official final part of the _Re_ series. As with all the others, it has its flaws. The author is aware of them, but feel free to point them out anyway if it will make you feel any better. No, seriously, the author won't mind. At this point, the term AU is probably not even worth mentioning, this being part 7 and all._**

**_Because this is the end, the author will be putting notes at the end of each chapter, talking about writing this series. Also, I will be dropping the imaginary third person for the duration. If you're not interested in reading my comments about stuff I did or why I did said stuff, feel free to skip the author's notes. Some people write stories in such a way that they require author's notes, but that's just lazy writing, far as I'm concerned._**

* * *

_Gotham_

_December 19__th__, 01:30 AM_

Nightwing had been walking high wires since he was little more than a toddler. It had been his first real skill, that and trapeze. He had never once needed a net, not as a child, not as Robin, and certainly not since taking the monicker of Nightwing. His natural sense of balance perhaps even exceeded that of Batman. For this reason, he had never feared heights. He'd never had any reason to.

Where someone else might lose their balance and fall, Nightwing knew that he never would. He had even done battle on the equivalent of a high wire, with someone trying to knock him off, on more than one occasion. His hand-eye coordination and reflexes were also such that, even should he fall, he would be able to catch himself if there was a way to physically do so. This was why he could fling himself off tall buildings without hesitation, because there was no uncertainty in him.

It was as close to flying as any mere human could ever come, what he did.

In his whole life, he had never looked down and wondered what it would be like to fall. Falling was somehow unreal to him, like fairy dust and unicorns.

And yet, now he could feel himself shaking. The ground seemed very far away, and the opposite end of the rope even further. It was fear he felt.

_I can't do this._

A hundred or so feet above the ground, suspended between two points by little more than a thread, a blasting wind blowing almost strong enough to lift him off the wire entirely. The dead weight he was carrying didn't make it any easier. But none of that was truly what had thrown him. Nor was it even the deep gashes in his back, weakness from blood loss seeping into his limbs.

The wire he was on wasn't designed for this. It trembled with his weight, and shook in the wind. He was almost certain one end would snap any second, and then he would have to catch it with one hand, while holding onto his cargo with the other. He had done exactly this exercise a thousand times before.

And yet, the ground seemed to be swaying below, and he felt deeply terrified, as he never had before. Not on a tight rope anyway.

_I'm going to fall._

Nightwing shifted the weight he was carrying. As he did so, a sharp jerk on the wire almost made his prediction into a reality. Looking over his shoulder, Nightwing saw a pair of glittering silver-gold eyes. The owner of those eyes was the very reason he was out here.

The four legged creature bore a striking resemblance to the Hydra of Greek mythology, a multi-headed thing halfway between being a lizard and a snake. Its clawed forepaws, or hands, or whatever they were, were clutching at the line. It slithered forward, having no need to fear the height, as a fall wouldn't bring about its demise.

Nightwing watched its progress out onto the wire with dawning horror. Even if he didn't fall, even if he kept going, the creature would overtake him before he made it to the other side. There was only one choice.

Crouching awkwardly, he pulled a knife from his belt and cut the wire. In the same motion, he caught it in his hand. He swung through the air, spinning so that, when he hit the building on the other side, it was with his back. The air was knocked violently from his lungs and he gasped.

He had done it to protect his passenger, who was still unconscious. He held her with one arm, the other occupied with holding onto the slick wire.

A roar-hiss-snarl of rage attracted his attention to the side where he'd started. The Hydra glared at him, savage fury alight in its reptilian eyes. Its fore claws were dug into the side of the building and it leaned forward almost as though it intended to jump.

Nightwing could think of only one good thing in this entire mess: the creature either couldn't shape shift, or didn't realize that it could. It could not grow wings and fly, nor could it suddenly increase its agility and make the leap from one building to another.

There was a groaning overhead and Nightwing looked up. The wire was beginning to come loose from its housing. It was also starting to fray. If they hadn't been too heavy before, they certainly were now. Looking back across the expanse between the buildings, Nightwing was hardly surprised to see that the Hydra-thing was gone.

He turned desperately to the person he was holding, willing her to wake up. He couldn't climb up with one hand, and if they didn't get off this wire soon, they would both die.

"Come on. Wake up. You have to wake up," he whispered urgently, then shouted over the roaring wind "Artemis, please!,"

In his distress, Nightwing had utterly forgotten that her name was different than it had been before, and had been for months now. She was now Tigress. But he didn't care.

"You've gotta wake up. Come on,"

Even now he only half believed what was right in front of him. He still felt certain that there was a way out of this, that there was still a way to survive. There had to be. But he was out of options and there was no time left. With a sickening snap, the wire broke in two.

_I'm going to die._

Nightwing fell.

* * *

_**A/N on the origin of **_**Re: _It had been, literally, years since I wrote a fan fiction. Occasionally, while I was watching a show, a story idea would flicker in the back of my mind and I would toy with it for a little while before dismissing it as amusing but not interesting enough to write down. I used to write fan fiction almost exclusively, too afraid to create my own characters, I suppose. But I've moved on from that, and write original works for the most part._  
**

**_On watching _Young Justice_ for the first time, I was struck by a thought somewhere in the series. Basically when Nightwing finds out Miss Martian fried Kaldur's brain. And Nightwing sort of... doesn't react. At all, really. Which is technically in character, but still feels a bit like there's something not there that ought to be. I shrugged it off._**

**_That is, until I wrote a story which is far superior to anything I had ever written before. It stood like a mountain of gold in a sea of dead fish, which is a bizarre analogy but just go with it. Unfortunately, everything I tried to follow up this golden story with fell terribly, comically short. I needed distance. I also needed relief. It's very stressful to try and write something that's amazing, knowing as you're doing so that you're failing so miserably that it's not even funny._**

**_I write primarily to relieve stress, and I was becoming quite stressed. And then I happened upon fan fiction. I realized that there was freedom in that. I could write whatever dead fish story I wanted and nobody would care, including me. They were unpublishable and so I couldn't make money off them even if they were the most beautifully written story ever. Not that I've ever made money off a story, mind. It's just that there is the possibility if you're writing something original._**

**_And so, I wrote a _Star Trek_ fan fiction. It was so awful that it was funny. And so I wrote another one. I averaged about 10k words before getting bored. So I was writing 10k fan fiction. I then rewatched _Young Justice_. And so, the journey of _Re_ began._**


	2. Chapter 1 - Seeing Double

_Seven hours earlier..._

"I thought I might find you here,"

Tigress jumped at the sound of Nightwing's voice. She had thought she was alone, and hadn't expected company. 'Here' was standing in front of the holographic projection of the deceased Kid Flash or, to those who knew him, Wally West.

She turned towards Nightwing who was standing half in the shadows, looking decidedly awkward.

"Don't do that," she snapped.

"What?,"

"Sneak up like that. I could have hurt you," it wasn't an empty threat, startling a superhero did generally involve broken bones on the part of the one who did the surprising.

"I didn't realize I was sneaking. But, if you want, I could leave and come back playing a banjo,"

Tigress tried not to laugh at that mental image, but didn't quite manage it. Nightwing grinned sheepishly, then shrugged and went back to looking uncomfortable.

"I just wanted... we haven't talked since... well... ever, actually," hearing Nightwing stumbling over words was an almost entirely new experience.

He always seemed so calm, like he had everything together. Stammering wasn't his style. For that matter, neither was apologizing or trying to broach the subject of feelings.

"I thought maybe...we should talk about... you know and sort of... I don't know if the air is already clear or if it's still smoggy out, but I... um...,"

"Stop," Tigress couldn't help interrupting, but also smiling "before you hurt yourself,"

Nightwing let out a sharp breath, looking much relieved to have been halted before he could well and truly embarrass himself.

"Look, suffice to say neither one of us is very good at talking about our feelings," Tigress said "or even understanding them. But, for what it's worth, you have nothing to apologize for. If I had been in your position... well, I don't know what I would have done. But I do know one thing: I wouldn't have handled it half as well as you. And as for the whole trying to kill you episode... that was caused by slugs. I'm sorry I tried to kill you, but those feelings I had... they were never mine,"

"For what it's worth, I wouldn't blame you if you were mad enough to kill me," Nightwing replied.

They stood quietly for a moment, neither knowing what to say or do. As Tigress had said, they weren't very good at feelings. They didn't discuss them with others, and they certainly didn't let them get in the way of the mission.

"So, now that we've got the touchy feely stuff out of the way," Tigress was the one to break the silence "what do we do?,"

"Well, I was going to go out and stop some criminals. Batman's a little busy with the whole recently dead thing. Funny how, after you've been buried, it takes some companies months to realize you're not actually dead," Nightwing smiled crookedly "So I figured I'd cover the nightlife of Gotham for him for awhile. You could join me, if you wanted to,"

"I bet you use that line with all the girls," Tigress returned the smile mischievously.

"Just the particularly heroic ones," Nightwing replied.

She knew as well as Nightwing did that there was nothing between them, and that there never would be. And that was okay. It would be nice to go out hunting criminals with a friend. Especially this friend, who Tigress had until just now been afraid she'd lost forever.

* * *

_Gotham_

_December 18__th__, 09:30 PM_

Tigress and Nightwing had just finished tying up some car thieves for the authorities when an alarm went off in one of the office buildings nearby.

"I'd forgotten how lively Gotham is at night," Tigress commented.

"Never let it be said that I took a girl on a boring date," Nightwing returned.

Tigress just rolled her eyes and they went to check out the source of the alarm. Coming in from the roof, they found that someone had broken in through the air circulation system. Although, truth be known, it looked more like ripping than breaking.

Tigress went on ahead while Nightwing paused to examine the damage. At first, it just looked like an opening had been torn, with shreds of metal lying about on the roof. Upon closer inspection, Nightwing realized that there were marks on the surface of the metal. Not just any marks. Claw marks.

He hurried to catch up with Tigress and relayed this information to her.

"Think it's one of the creatures?," she asked "I thought that project died with Meekus' connection to reality,"

"I think it has," Nightwing said "but there are still monsters left over from all the experiments. And who knows?. Luthor may be trying to recreate it. Trying being the operative word,"

They continued into the building, following the path of destruction sometimes right through the floor to another level. They didn't see any sign of people, alive or otherwise.

"I suppose there's something to be said about people doing the impossible because they don't know it's impossible," Tigress muttered.

"Nothing good," Nightwing replied darkly.

It was true. Nothing good had come from the experiments of Dr. Meekus, only pain and suffering for all concerned, not to mention a number of deaths.

Walking through a ripped open door, the two heroes found themselves standing in what looked like a laboratory experiment. A large machine stood in one corner, an identical one opposite it. Tigress and Nightwing regarded this find in bemusement for a moment.

"Odd thing to find in the middle of an office building, wouldn't you say?," Tigress said.

"Stranger still, no windows on this level. I thought it was weird," Nightwing observed "though not so strange when you know who owns this building,"

"Let me guess: a certain billionaire by the name of Lex Luthor,"

"So says the emblem on that computer's screen saver," Nightwing nodded towards it.

"So... why is there a monster breaking in?. Shouldn't it be tearing its way out?,"

"Unless there's something in here that it wants," Nightwing replied.

They didn't get time to theorize as something suddenly crashed into them from behind, thrusting them both into the lab. A heavy roar shook the smaller objects of the room as Tigress and Nightwing got to their feet. Blocking the doorway was a massive creature which looked like a twisted cross between a lizard and a snake.

Its head darted inward, towards the two. Tigress struck across its nose with her sword and it swung its head to the side. Nightwing narrowly dodged this, but fell back into the line of sight of the machines. As though they were motion activated, they clicked and whirred to life.

"Nightwing!," Tigress started to turn, but was prevented from doing so by the snapping jaws of the creature as it strove to end her life.

After a moment, the creature withdrew its head and reached in with a large clawed fore foot. Tigress took a stab at that appendage and the animal pulled its foot back with an angry hiss. A bright flash behind her caused Tigress to turn. Nightwing seemed unhurt for the most part, staggering away from the machinery and shaking his head, half blinded by the light which had shone right at him.

"You okay?," Tigress asked.

Nightwing took a moment to consider this, then nodded.

"Fine. Let's go,"

They chased the creature all the way back up to the roof, at which point it managed to elude them, disappearing into the night like a shadow in the dark.

"That wasn't some mindless monster," Tigress noted "otherwise it wouldn't have broken into the building. And it also wouldn't have run just because I hurt it,"

"Right," Nightwing said thoughtfully "which means it's not the earliest incarnation. Probably one of the later ones,"

"Question is: exactly how late are we talking?,"

Nightwing knew what the question meant. Early versions of these monsters were mostly mindless, but they'd gradually gotten smarter. Eventually, they had even gained the ability to shape shift and be telepathically controlled, although the results of that had been somewhat... mixed.

"I'd say Luthor's lost control of this one," Nightwing said "I mean, why would he want it to attack his own building?,"

"Why indeed," Tigress said "let's have a look around before the police show up. Maybe it left some clue behind as to why it was here in the first place,"

Nightwing hesitated, and looked as if he meant to say something, but then didn't and followed Tigress back into the building.

Since they didn't know the place, they couldn't say whether or not anything had been taken. But on the same level as the lab, they found a nearly identical laboratory with a bigger doorway. There were the same odd machines, only these had been torn to bits.

"Think these are the prototypes?," Tigress asked.

"I dunno. Maybe," Nightwing replied.

"What do you think they're for?,"

"Whatever it is, they didn't do much to me," Nightwing shrugged.

"Well maybe they need someone to operate them. Maybe the bright light was just sort of a... boot up sequence or something," Tigress suggested "or maybe they only work on creatures,"

"Yeah. Maybe," He looked over his shoulder uneasily.

"What is it?," Tigress asked, noticing.

"I just... thought I heard something. We better go before the police get here," Nightwing told her.

"Sure I... whoa," Tigress had just come around the side of a tall piece of machinery and stopped dead in her tracks. Nightwing came over to see what she was looking at.

There, in the middle of the floor, lay a large creature. It was stretched out on its side, and there were gaping wounds in its stomach and ribcage. But most remarkable was that, other than an excess number of heads, it looked exactly like the creature that had escaped. Only this one was very dead.

"It looks like a Hydra," Tigress breathed "you know, like from Greek mythology,"

"Straight out of fantasy and into reality," Nightwing said "sounds familiar,"

* * *

Had they left when Nightwing had first suggested, they would have discovered that the noise he heard was that of the machines in the other room activating again.

Even if they had left immediately upon discovering the dead Hydra, they would have born witness to something very interesting and disconcerting. There was another bright flash of light, followed by a low hissing noise. When the light faded, the process had ended.

At this point, the two heroes would have been very interested to watch as a young man about twenty years old stepped out of the lab, heard them talking, turned his head away and casually left the building. It would have shocked them senseless to recognize the mask and bright blue emblem on his clothing which identified him as Nightwing.

* * *

_10:00 PM_

The Hydra moved quickly, but it left behind a trail of destruction so obvious that any rookie could follow it. For Tigress and Nightwing, it was a walk in the park, quite literally at one point. The creature didn't seem to attack anyone or destroy anything unless it was in its way. But everything from cars to fences that got between the creature and wherever it was going was torn to pieces.

They finally located their quarry in a parking garage about three miles east of where they had started. The Hydra proved to be only too eager to turn on them. The first thing they did was attempt to administer the cure, which turned out to be easier said than done. When they finally did, they were somewhat shocked to find the creature to be immune. And they found out how very Hydra-like it was for sure when Tigress took a swing at its head and lopped it off, only to have two more spring forth, these even more aggressive than the last.

"I think you just made it mad," was Nightwing's comment.

Nightwing had his own futile moment with the creature when he tried to get a better angle using his grappler, only to have the beast raise one of its heads, catch the hook and then begin to gulp it down. Nightwing was forced to let go of the device or be swallowed with it.

"I was using that!," Nightwing told the indifferent monster, then added to Tigress "that beast just ate my grappler,"

"Yeah, well, you can buy yourself a new one when we get out of here," Tigress replied distractedly.

* * *

_Marty's Bar_

_10:30 PM_

The holidays were a busy time for Martin Benton. A lot of people came for Christmas cheer, or to be depressed about the holiday season. Either way, it was good for business. Under ordinary circumstances, Marty required ID to be shown at the bar before serving anyone.

But what do you do when a masked vigilante walks in and demands a beer?. Marty had always been a fan of Batman, and though he knew little about Nightwing, he recognized the fellow as something of an extension of that other personality and he had seen Nightwing in person before, though never at his bar. So he not only gave Nightwing the requested beverage, but told him any drinks he wanted were on the house.

Nightwing took up a seat in a back corner. His first sip of beer indicated that maybe he'd never tasted the stuff before. He set the bottle down and looked at it for a long time, as if he believed it might bite him if he took his eyes off it. Then, as though deciding something internally, he picked up the bottle and downed the whole thing in a matter of minutes.

Marty sent Denise to go and see if the guy wanted anything else. She came back saying Nightwing wanted her to surprise him, just with something a bit stronger than what he'd already had.

"Guess heroes have as much right to party as anyone," Marty told her.

Denise, looking slightly uneasy, returned to Nightwing's table with a new drink. It was fairly obvious, even from a distance, that Nightwing was hitting on her. Marty could recognize the hungry look in his eyes, and the charming smile he kept offering her.

Denise left the table and looked to Marty for help, but not the kind someone else might. Denise was a good employee, but she also always had an eye open for fresh meat. She could be beautiful, if she tried, but instead chose the image of sexy. It was good for business that she was so attractive as well as willing.

"Think I could knock off early tonight?," she asked.

Marty looked past her at Nightwing, who was sipping his drink and watching the exchange intently. For a moment, Marty's imagination ran away with him and he was suddenly afraid for Denise. If he was wrong about Batman and his cohorts, Denise could get into some real trouble.

Then he shook off his unease.

"Sure, honey. But be back early tomorrow to help open up, okay?,"

"You're a dear," Denise smiled brightly.

She turned slowly towards the table where Nightwing was waiting, a suggestive move to her hips and a flirtatious smile on her face.

A few minutes later, Nightwing and Denise left together.

* * *

_**A/N on **_**Redemption_: The prologue for this story was where it began. I wrote it without even having a story to attach to it. It wasn't then meant as a prologue, just something in my head that needed to be written to get it out. And so I did. I then left it gathering dust in a folder, not even giving it a second thought. Some time later, I found myself writing an actual _Young Justice_ fan fic. This would later become the second half of part 1. The prologue for that story eventually became chapter 5 of _Redemption_._**

**_In the original version, there was nothing forcing Tigress to attack Nightwing. Her attack was actually just a vehicle for Robin's side of the story, the whole passing out/coming to the rescue thing. He was supposed to say something profound to make her change her mind about killing Nightwing. But then I realized that was completely out of character for Tigress. Even with grief as her justification, it would be a cruel and unfair use of the character. Not to mention lazy writing._**

**_The use of Wally West in the story was unexpected, at best. It was originally that Robin and Nightwing just had some sort of connection. But I realized two things were wrong with that. 1. I would have to somehow explain it. 2. It wouldn't fit with Nightwing being on the verge of suicidal (well, not really suicidal, he wouldn't kill himself. But he wasn't supposed to be defending himself all that much, either). And so I tossed Wally in as a get-out-of-jail-free card. He exploded into an energy thing, so even if you don't like the "ghost" angle, you can sort of pick what you want him to be. Maybe he's just made of energy now. I didn't need to explain it and didn't intend for it to have a sequel._**

**_I had barely finished when I had another idea. It basically consisted of Robin having a bad week. I almost immediately realized that it would make the perfect prequel to _Redemption._ Then I decided to just tack it on to the front of the story. There were a few alterations that had to be made, and I still feel that the bridge between the stories can be seen quite clearly on a sunny day. It also turned out that the first part was somewhat less than my standard 10k fan fic. It was only at this point that I remembered that short thing from months ago. I stuck it on as a prologue and called _Redemption_ a finished product._**

**_I spent about two days on the story, not counting the prologue which was written well in advance with no thought of the story in mind. I thought I was finished, that I'd be moving on to another story._**

**_Little did I know then..._**


	3. Chapter 2 - Fear & Beer

_Gotham_

_11:00 PM_

"For being such an aggressive fighter, this thing sure does a lot of running away," Tigress commented.

The Hydra had taken its first opportunity to flee from them, forcing them to trail it once more.

"Well, maybe it doesn't want to hurt anyone," Nightwing said.

Tigress almost laughed, but then noticed the serious expression on Nightwing's face. She stopped her tracking and turned towards him, disbelief on her face.

"You're serious?. You do remember what these things are created for, right?. What happened to Robin when he became one?. To you?,"

"Of course," Nightwing said "but... what if it's not that simple anymore?,"

"Simple?," Tigress laughed humorlessly "what about these monsters has ever been simple?. This whole thing started with someone putting a slug in my neck and getting me to try and kill you. You do remember that, right?,"

Nightwing nodded, but said nothing and looked slightly uncomfortable.

"You think I'm jumping to conclusions," Tigress sighed "alright, fine. Let's hear it. What do you think our friendly neighborhood sea monster is after?,"

"I don't know that," Nightwing confessed "but it just seems like... it could have done more damage than it has, if it wanted to... to us, I mean,"

"It could also have not attacked us in the first place," Tigress pointed out.

"I suppose...," Nightwing looked sort of uncertain, and turned away.

A second later, he shook off whatever it was and turned back.

"You know what?. You're right. Come on, let's go slay the thing so we can get on with our lives,"

* * *

_Marty's Bar_

_December 19__th__, 12:01 AM_

Marty was a bit surprised to see Nightwing return to the bar. This time he sat down on a bar stool.

"Where's Denise?," Marty asked.

"She got tired and is sleeping it off," Nightwing replied, flashing that winning smile of his.

"So what brings you back here?," Marty wanted to know.

"Well, I thought I would get extremely drunk," Nightwing said brightly "think I can do that before closing time?,"

"Holiday hours are late," Marty replied "closing time tonight is three o'clock,"

"Sweet,"

"You sure you want to get drunk?," Marty asked "most guys come in here to drown their sorrows, and stagger out of here in police custody,"

"Got no sorrows. Besides, I brought my phone with me," Nightwing set the object on the bar "I'm sure my brother will come and get me," he smiled again.

"Alright, it's your head. What'll you have?,"

"Just give me something to try and I'll go from there,"

"Aren't you just the adventurous type," Marty shook his head wonderingly.

"Well I am, after all, a superhero. I like living on the edge,"

* * *

_Gotham_

_01:20 AM_

Nightwing and Tigress had finally tracked the Hydra to the top of Wayne Tower, of all places. Before they engaged the enemy, Nightwing made a final, bizarre appeal to Tigress.

"I'm not sure this is what we should do," he began.

"What, was that light some kind of indecision ray?," Tigress asked "what's eating you anyway?. You've been jittery and off-game all night,"

"Nothing. It's just I think we might ought to rethink this," Nightwing said evasively.

"Rethink what?. What is there to rethink?. That Hydra is going to kill someone if we don't stop it, and we're all out of cure darts. What do you suggest we do?,"

"I just... I don't... I...," Nightwing turned from Tigress to look at the Hydra, which wasn't aware of them as of yet "I don't...," he shook himself "never mind. If we're going, let's go,"

"You're sure you're okay?," Tigress asked, concerned by her friend's behavior.

"Yeah," Nightwing said quietly, then repeated it more forcefully "yes, I'm fine,"

"Good," Tigress leaped out of the shadows, sword drawn and engaged the Hydra.

Nightwing watched for a second. Looking down at his hands, he realized they were shaking. For the first time that night, he questioned whether or not he was actually fine.

He then joined the battle.

* * *

_01:30 AM_

_I can't do this._

Nightwing had hesitated during the battle, leaving himself open to attack. The Hydra had raked its claws down his back. Tigress had come to his defense, but been knocked unconscious. Nightwing had made the first decision that night which felt like the right one. He had fled. And, for the first time, as though sensing the weakness of its tormentors, the Hydra had given chase.

A hundred or so feet above the ground, suspended between Wayne Tower and another building by little more than a thread, a blasting wind blowing almost strong enough to lift him off the wire entirely. Carrying Tigress didn't make it any easier. But that wasn't why he felt like he couldn't do this. Nor was it even the deep gashes in his back, weakness from blood loss seeping into him like a chill.

The wire he was on wasn't designed for this. It trembled with his weight, and shook in the wind. He was almost certain one end would snap any second, and then he would have to catch it with one hand, while holding onto his cargo with the other. He had done exactly this exercise a thousand times before. And yet, the ground seemed to be swaying below, and he felt deeply terrified, as he never had before. Not on a tight rope anyway.

_I'm going to fall._

Nightwing shifted Tigress' limp body in his arms. As he did so, a sharp jerk on the wire almost made his prediction into a reality. Looking over his shoulder, Nightwing saw a pair of glittering silver-gold eyes. The Hydra had followed him, and given him no alternative but to step out onto the wire. Its clawed forepaws, or hands, or whatever they were, were now clutching at the line. It slithered forward, having no need to fear the height, as a fall wouldn't bring about its demise.

Nightwing watched its progress out onto the wire with dawning horror. Even if he didn't fall, even if he kept going, the Hydra would overtake him before he made it. There was only one choice.

Crouching awkwardly, he pulled a knife from his belt and cut the wire. In the same motion, he caught it in his hand. He swung through the air, spinning so that, when he hit the building on the other side, it was with his back. The air was knocked violently from his lungs and he gasped.

He had done it to protect Tigress, who was still unconscious. He held her with one arm, the other occupied with holding onto the slick wire.

A roar-hiss-snarl of rage attracted his attention to the side where he'd started. The Hydra glared at him, savage fury alight in its reptilian eyes. It had managed to return to the building before the wire gave and now its fore claws were dug into the side of the building and it was leaning forward almost as though it intended to jump.

Nightwing could think of only one good thing in this entire mess: the creature either couldn't shape shift, or didn't realize that it could. It could not grow wings and fly, nor could it suddenly increase its agility and make the leap from one building to another. Unfortunately, it could grow itself a new head.

There was a groaning overhead and Nightwing looked up. The wire was working its way loose and starting to fray. If they hadn't been too heavy before, they certainly were now. Looking back across the expanse between the buildings, Nightwing was hardly surprised to see that the Hydra was gone.

He turned desperately to Tigress, willing her to wake up. He couldn't climb up with one hand, and if they didn't get off this wire soon, they would both die.

"Come on. Wake up. You have to wake up," he whispered urgently, then shouted over the roaring wind "Artemis, please!,"

In his distress, Nightwing had utterly forgotten that her name was different than it had been before, and had been for months now. She was now Tigress and had been for a long time. But he didn't care.

"You've gotta wake up. Come on,"

Even now he only half believed what was right in front of him. He still felt certain that there was a way out of this, that there was still a way to survive. There had to be. But he was out of options and there was no time left. With a sickening snap, the wire broke in two.

_I'm going to die._

"Artemis!,"

Nightwing fell.

As he fell, Nightwing felt a hand grabbing for him. Instinctively, he responded, taking it. The descent was yanked to a violent halt, then continued at a rapid, but no longer lethal, speed. Nightwing looked up and was startled to see the face of Robin. Robin dropped Nightwing the last few feet.

"Good lord, you're heavy!," Robin commented, lowering himself down to the ground "it's a good thing I caught you with my right hand,"

Nightwing didn't answer, instead kneeling, still holding Tigress, afraid to let her go even now that they were safely on the ground once more.

"Is she okay?," Robin leaned over Nightwing to better see Tigress, touching a hand to his brother's shoulder without even thinking about it.

Nightwing flinched and Robin pulled away.

"You're bleeding,"

"I'm... I'm okay," Nightwing mumbled "but Artemis...,"

Just then Tigress moaned, rolled her head and then opened her eyes. She blinked blearily at Nightwing for several seconds.

"Mm... I know you're under stress... but it's Tigress, remember?," she smiled up at him.

Nightwing let out a relieved breath and smiled at her, then up and Robin, who looked equally relieved. Tigress certainly sounded like she was okay.

"What happened?," Tigress looked up past them at the peak of Wayne Tower "how did we get down here?. And where's the Hydra?,"

At Robin's rather uneasy look, Nightwing explained quickly about the monster and the lab and everything they'd been doing all night. He got to the point about the wire and there he stumbled, unable to actually admit aloud that he'd felt so afraid.

"Robin caught us before we hit pavement," Nightwing finished "by the way, how did you know?,"

"I didn't," Robin replied, then added when Nightwing and Tigress looked disbelieving "honest. You set off an alarm at the tower. I was already out and nearby, so I came to see what was up. Saw the end of the show. Great exit by the way, I'll be remembering that one for a long time,"

"That makes two of us," Nightwing said.

"Yeah, as far as last second catches go," Robin went on "that was probably my finest hour. But I beg of you, never force me to do that again," he then rubbed his shoulder and rotated it experimentally "yep, I'm gonna be feeling that in the morning,"

"You want to try and get up now?," Nightwing asked Tigress, ignoring his brother.

"Sounds like a plan," Nightwing slowly let her go and then helped her upright "okay, bit dizzy,"

"Makes two of us," Nightwing replied.

"Yeah, I think you should both go home," Robin suggested "really, I can handle things here. Get patched up and get some rest, okay?,"

"Only if you promise to steer clear of the Hydra," Tigress said.

"No monster hunting," Robin nodded "unless they're eating pedestrians, which there shouldn't be too many of at two in the morning,"

* * *

_Batcave_

_02:57 AM_

Robin had returned to the cave to do some research on the Luthorcorp owned building the Hydra had broken into. Ordinarily, he would have left it to Nightwing and Tigress, but they had looked pretty spent. He figured if he could give them information, or at least tell them there were no leads to be had and thus prevent them from wasting time, so much the better.

"Shut the door!," Dixie chirruped.

This was hardly an odd remark, as Dixie was a parrot. Robin had sort of accidentally acquired her recently, and she'd been absolutely nothing but trouble ever since.

"Shut the door yourself," Robin said absently "I'm busy,"

He had barely started working when his phone rang. Pulling it out and looking at it, he was surprised to see Nightwing on the caller ID. He answered the phone.

"Robin,"

"_Rob... hey... I'm... I'm... at a bar... called... um... Mort... Murt... uh... Marty's. An'... I... um... little drunk. Come get me, okay?,"_

"What are you-... never mind. I'm on my way, stay put,"

"_Sure thing, bro... I... like this bar... another round...,"_

"No. No more rounds. Just stay there. I'll come get you,"

* * *

_**A/N on **_**Retribution**_**: This part of the story was brought about almost entirely because of a soul-crushingly awful film which I watched shortly after finishing **_**Redemption**_**. The strange thing was that it had an interesting concept, and it gave me a story idea. The idea, of course, was that some of the Team wind up in prison. I then had to figure out why. The explanation arrived in the form of making it a sequel to **_**Redemption**_**.**_**_ I then contrived some reasons why only certain team members went. Why only boys went was easy to explain, their age was little more difficult. I knew I didn't want Nightwing to go, because he needed to be elsewhere, trying to get the Team back home._**

**_The original concept was very much a duplicate of the first part of the story, only in reverse. At least, on Nightwing's side of things. The story began to leave its origins behind when I decided that Robin should become one of the beasts of the story. Originally, the guy the other two framed was going to get loose and try to kill him, but Nightwing's "visions" would allow the rest of the Team to intervene. But I took issue with creating the exact same story twice and so began to think of ways to change things up a bit, starting with totally ignoring the plight of the guy they framed. The trend continued as I decided that Nightwing's ailment could hardly be explained away by throwing Wally back into the mix (after all, to contact someone, Wally would have to be in some way aware of them, right?. So why would he wind up nearly killing Nightwing just to tell him that some inmate is going to beat up his brother?. It doesn't make any sense. Besides that, Nightwing should be able to recognize Wally for what he is and so wouldn't be putting up the struggle Robin did in part 1)._**

**_I decided that Nightwing must have been infected too, because that was the easiest explanation that made the remotest amount of sense (and it's pretty remote, I admit). So then I had to explain how, and come up with some lame excuse for why Tigress wasn't infected and why Nightwing was singled out rather than, oh say, Green Arrow._**

**_A lot of writing is deciding what you want to happen, then figuring out how to make it so in a way that makes sense. If it's impossible to create a thin thread of logic, then the idea is probably stupid and should be discarded in favor of something better._**

**_I like reading reviews and critiques, and thoroughly enjoy analysis, picking apart things I've read or watched until all that's left is a pile of nits. And so, it was about this time that I began a secondary file to point out the various flaws of the story as I saw them. It also made editing less tedious to be looking out for things that make no sense as well as typos. Some people don't realize it, but every story ever told by man has flaws, and not just grammatical errors either. Huge, gaping plot holes. I thought that pointing out all the flaws of parts 1 and 2 would discourage me, but it only made writing part 3 all the more fun.  
_**

**_It was at this point in writing the story that I started noticing a change in myself. Having had a rough couple of years, routine was something I was only now vaguely familiar with. But I found myself writing more and more regularly... routinely. In relieving stress on a regular basis, I found relief in other parts of my life. It's amazing how something so small, so utterly insignificant, as writing a fan fiction, can make such a difference. Through the next few months, which would be full of trials for me, this story was often my only refuge. The only thing I had to look forward every day was spending a little bit of time writing a stupid story._**

**_The first of these trials was losing Buddy. He was technically my brother's cockatiel, but he was a sociable creature. Every day for ten years I'd heard him flapping and squeaking through the halls, flying from place to place, having arguments with the microwave and taunting the cats whenever possible. He shared snacks off our plates, loved being petted by everyone except my dad, who was apparently better for play-fighting with and sleeping on. Often when my brother and I talked, we would be having so much fun that one of us would laugh. In turn, Buddy would fairly reliably chuckle. Sometimes he would chuckle just to see if he could get us to laugh (which he usually succeeded. Parrots are funny creatures anyway, but one of the funniest things they can do is chuckle). I'm not sure anyone who hasn't had a parrot can understand the impact of suddenly having all that noise, all that frantic activity, gone. Ten years of listening to him shriek through the house, and suddenly the house was silent. Oh, there were people around and all the usual house noises, but compared with what it had been, it was like a tomb. The only way to deal with that eery loneliness was to turn up the music and start tapping away on the keyboard._**

**_And so... I did._**


	4. Chapter 3 - Angry Drunk

_Marty's Bar_

Robin hadn't the foggiest idea where Marty's Bar was, but a quick search of the internet found him an address. He brought the R-cycle, though he suspected they would have to walk home. If Nightwing was as inebriated as he sounded, he'd never be able to stay on a motorcycle.

Robin found the bar mostly empty, save the bar tender and Nightwing, who was leaning heavily on the bar and slowly scooting an empty glass around, sometimes stopping to giggle to himself.

"I thought I told you to go home," Robin said "what the hell are you doing here?,"

"Drinking," Nightwing replied sluggishly.

"I see that," Robin took the glass away before Nightwing shoved it off the edge and broke it "do you have any idea what Batman will have to say about this?,"

"What he doesn'... know... won' hurt him none, right?,"

"You think he won't notice the hangover you're bound to have in the morning?. Or you staggering into the house smelling like... a bar?,"

The bar tender was standing at a discreet distance, but was clearly listening. Robin decided to get Nightwing out of here before either of them said anything compromising.

"Come on. Get up," he took Nightwing by the arm and dragged him to his feet, whereupon Nightwing almost immediately did a face plant onto the floor.

Robin caught him, and threw his brother's arm over his shoulder. Nightwing leaned heavily on him and he staggered slightly with the weight. They weaved their way out the door, where Robin resumed the interrogation.

"What's gotten into you?. Sure you lost the fight, and nearly your life, but that's no reason to go drown yourself in alcohol. You know better,"

"That's... what I like about... you. Always... lookin' for... out for... the um... my... person... or something like that... anyway,"

"Your breath stinks," Robin said "seriously, what were you thinking?,"

"I was thinking... it was fun," Nightwing replied "and you know what?... it was,"

"Say that again in the morning," Robin didn't even try to guide Nightwing towards the R-cycle.

He'd come back for it after he got Nightwing home. He aimed Nightwing for home. Getting up onto the sidewalk was a challenge, since being drunk seemed to have liberated Nightwing of his understanding of curbs as well as his sense of balance.

* * *

_Batcave_

They did, eventually, manage to make their way home. Nightwing did have to stop and throw up a couple of times, an activity he seemed to find unusually entertaining. By the time they got home, he was evidently not feeling so spiffy as he had earlier.

"Alright, sit down. Right here," Robin guided Nightwing into a chair "now, you stay. I hear coffee is a good idea in these situations. I may be wrong, I don't know. This hasn't really... come up in my training before now,"

"S.. sure... you go. I'll stay. Ooh... pretty birdy,"

"Right... Dixie," Robin paused, thinking.

Nightwing seemed a little more sober now, but he and Dixie had never hit it off. There was no telling what might happen if Robin left the two of them alone. But if he took the parrot up into the mansion, she would probably set to squealing and wake up Alfred and Bruce.

He decided to take her with him, half hoping she would scream and thus lift the responsibility from him. He both did and did not want Bruce to know about Nightwing's drinking. On the one hand, Bruce should know, because it could easily be a real problem. On the other hand, Robin didn't want Nightwing to get into trouble and he really didn't want to see his brother and father fight.

"Come on, Dix," he said.

"Three blind mice. Three blind mice," She squawked, climbing delicately onto his arm

"Yeah, yeah,"

* * *

A short time later, Nightwing had consumed the cup of coffee under the watchful eyes of Robin and Dixie. During that time, Robin had tried various tactics of conversation to figure out exactly why Nightwing had chosen to get drunk in the first place.

Finally giving up, he took the empty cup from Nightwing and set it on the desk.

"Come on, up to bed. We'll talk about it in the morning... or afternoon, as the case may be," Robin said wearily.

"Don't tell me what to do,"

"Oh we're doing this now?," Robin sighed "you're gonna be a mean drunk now?,"

"Lay off me," Nightwing growled.

"What?. You're going to sit down here all night?,"

"Maybe," Nightwing replied sourly "what are you going to do about it?,"

"Nothing," Robin replied "nothing whatsoever. I've done what I can. Now I'm tired, and I'm going to bed. You can stay down here and wait for Bruce to get up and then fight with him if you like,"

"Fight!. Fight!," Dixie yelled suddenly, sensing the tension between the two.

"Shut up, you damn bird!," Nightwing snarled, then turned on Robin "that's you!. Always giving up easy!. Hand your problems over to daddy and he'll make them go away!. You've never had an original thought in your life, have you!?,"

"Don't," Robin warned "not right now,"

"Why not!?. Think I'll hurt your feelings, Robin?. Ha!. Even Robin's a hand-me-down!. A name I thought up when I was nine!," Nightwing spat.

"Nightwing, please,"

"Nightwing, please," Nightwing snorted "you know what?. Nightwing's a pretty stupid name too. I've got a better one,"

Robin opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it.

"Shikra," Nightwing said "you know what that is?. It's a bird of prey, not very big. But it hunts birds as big as it is. I'm sure it eats robins for breakfast,"

"Really?," Robin shook his head "that's really nice. I'm sure you'll be happy with your new name. As for me, I kind of like the one I have,"

He turned his back and started walking towards the stairs. He might have made it, except that Dixie suddenly took it into her head to fly off his shoulder and right for Nightwing. Robin turned in time to see Nightwing catch her by the chest, and to take in the look of wrath in his dark eyes.

Dixie screamed and flapped her wings, biting at Nightwing's gloves to no avail.

"You and your stupid parrot,"

"Let. Her. Go," Robin growled, his voice low.

"Or what?. You couldn't stop me if you wanted to,"

"Maybe not, but I can sure try and beat the hell out of you if you don't,"

There was a dangerous light in Nightwing's eyes. One Robin hadn't seen in some time, and had hoped to never see again as long as he lived. For a moment, he feared Nightwing would simply crush the life from the parrot right before his eyes. Instead, he suddenly let her go. As Dixie floundered through the air, Nightwing lunged for Robin. Robin hadn't anticipated this and anyway Nightwing was faster than he was.

Nightwing plowed into him like a ton of bricks. As Robin was going down, Nightwing kneed him in the stomach. He fell, only to be kicked in the ribs repeatedly.

Dixie, terrified but also infuriated to see Robin being attacked, flew at Nightwing's head. She grabbed at him with sharp claws, beating at his face with her wings. Nightwing lashed out with one hand. He struck the parrot and she reeled backwards, falling from the air like a stone and crumpling to the floor.

"Bastard!," Robin shouted "why did you do that?,"

He started to get up to go and check on his pet, but Nightwing kicked him in the face and he was driven back to the floor. A second kick and the lights went out.

Nightwing, Shikra, looked down at the bird. He was tempted to make sure it was dead. He then looked at Robin, equally tempted to end the little brat's life too. But instead he climbed the stairs, found a bottle of wine and sat himself down in the living room with a glass and the tv remote.

Smiling to himself, Shikra turned on the tv and watched the late night programs. He had a couple of hours to kill before Bruce got up, and it would be longer still before the morning news.

He sipped the wine and began to consider his next move.

* * *

_Wayne Manor_

_07:30 AM_

"My, aren't we up early this morning?," Bruce was startled to find that Dick was not only up and in full Nightwing costume, but he was sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, holding a glass of wine and staring at the television, which was showing an infomercial.

He looked up at Bruce, and there was a dangerous look in his eyes. A strange look, one Bruce had never seen on his face before.

"Off to watch some poor kid's parents get killed in front of him?. That is what you do best, isn't it?," the words stung, but they were so unlike Nightwing that Bruce wasn't sure how to respond.

Instead of answering, he instead picked up the bottle of wine on the coffee table. It seemed to be mostly full, maybe Nightwing hadn't been at this... whatever he was doing... for long.

"What do you think you're doing?," Bruce demanded, shaking the bottle.

"Put it down, Bruce," Nightwing said, his voice low "and, for the record, I know exactly what I'm doing. For the first time in my life,"

"What are you talking about?," Bruce asked.

"Do you think I didn't notice?," Nightwing growled, slowly getting to his feet and setting the empty glass on the table "that I couldn't see the truth?,"

"I don't follow," in truth, he did, but he hoped he was wrong.

"Don't lie to me," Nightwing spat "you knew there was danger!. You knew someone would try to kill them, but did you do anything about it?. No. You sat in the audience, pretending nothing was wrong. And now they're dead!. You got what you wanted. You always do,"

"Dick...," Bruce was shaking his head, but Nightwing interrupted.

"No!. I've had enough. You can't tell me you didn't want a companion. Company in your lonely life. Someone who could truly share your pain. And when I outgrew you, you went off and found another and did the same thing to him. Just sat back and watched while his whole world was destroyed!,"

Bruce had always been afraid that Nightwing harbored these feelings towards him, but never had the courage to ask. Now the words were said, and they seemed wrong. It wasn't something Nightwing would say. Not under ordinary circumstances.

"What's wrong with you?," Bruce asked.

"Wrong?. With me?. Everyone thinks something's wrong with me!. Well get this, old man, I'm fine!. There's nothing wrong with me!. Except you!. You and your damn crusade!. I hate it!. I'm sick to death of it!. And I'm done,"

Bruce opened his mouth to respond to Nightwing's outburst, but there was a sudden loud cry from the direction of the secret entrance to the batcave. The noise had evidently woken Dixie. Bruce decided to go and check on her, maybe give himself and Nightwing a few seconds to cool off.

"I'm going to go see to the bird,"

"Yeah. You do that. I'm out of here," Nightwing blew past him, going out the front door and disappearing into the still dark morning.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Bruce went down to the batcave.

* * *

"Thief!. Thief!. Thief!," Dixie was at the head of the stairs, screaming her little head off.

On seeing Bruce, she broke off mid-word with a squawk and scurried down the stairs, wings waving above her head. Bruce followed the bird with his eyes as she hopped down each step, which looked like an exhausting process which would be easily avoided if she would just fly. But Dixie seemed to avoid flying whenever possible.

A low moan distracted Bruce. At once he came down the stairs, barreling past the startled parrot, who took to the air and resumed her cry of "Thief!. Thief!,"

"Robin!," Bruce knelt beside the boy and ran a hand over him to check for broken bones.

Bruce turned him over on his back and Robin's eyes half opened and rolled. He moaned again, but didn't actually respond. Dried blood covered the left side of his face. Bruce put his arms under the boy and carried him up the stairs to the living room couch so he could get a better look at the wounded Robin. Dixie flapped after him.

She alighted on the mantel where she took up a new cry.

"Shikra!. Shikra!. Shikra!," she shouted, looking around the room with wild eyes.

All the noise woke Alfred. At Bruce's request, he went to get a towel and some warm water so Bruce could clean the wound on Robin's face and see how bad it really was.

* * *

**_A/N on_ Reinvention_: Unlike part 2, part 3 was actually somewhat planned. As soon as I decided that Robin would be injected, I knew the story would go on much longer. I was somewhat afraid of exceeding my 20k word limit, for fear of getting bored and not finishing the story. It's much easier to finish a story after you're bored if you've only got a few thousand words to go._**

**_I was actually very lazy with the prologue, which was written for a story I never got around to. It was one of my many failures to write after creating my mountain of gold story. I realized that this story was going to be vaguely horror, and the prologue was definitely that. A few tweaks and the addition of some scenes actually involving the Team and it was good to go._**

**_As with most horror stories, there's very little depth in this one. Regular guy turns into monster and starts killing things. Initially, Robin was going to turn into a Velociraptor, more or less. But that seemed slightly stupid. He was supposed to be more advanced than the misshapen monsters they'd been fighting. A dinosaur seemed a step in the wrong direction and also not really all that scary. And so I added a few features, leaving the most deadly aspects of the Velociraptor intact while adding things which might make it more frightening._**

**_At first, Robin in his monster form was going to be that which frightened the wolves. But, as the story developed, that made less and less sense until I finally realized that Nightwing would have to become a beast too. That's right, all he was supposed to have was the mental connection. The dragon was a last-minute addition. I thought of maybe having him be virtually the same as Robin, but decided against it, actually at the last second._**

**_When Superboy encounters Robin in the woods, that was actually going to be Nightwing. Right up until it's revealed in the story, I had fully intended for it to be Nightwing. But then it hit me, shape-shifters. I could metaphorically kill two birds with one stone. There could be a cure and also that would make them much scarier, especially when you consider that the next step would be to have them shape-shift into people (yeah, so I started stealing from the box of existing comics, but it's not like the comic writers haven't already done that so I can't feel too badly)._**

**_I briefly toyed with the idea of writing a fourth part of the story before Nightwing got returned to normal, but by then I had another plot idea entirely and knew I would soon be quite bored with this one._**

**_Halfway through writing this story, I became sick, and was still sick until about a quarter of the way through part 4. The effect was, of course, that this suddenly seemed like the most fantastic story I had ever written. Once I recovered, I recognized it for what it is: extremely dumb. But by then the story was all finished, so I didn't have to think about how devastatingly absurd it was for Nightwing to be a dragon or for the cure to be found in the dragon's bite._**

**_Having finished my horror/fantasy... thing, I went for something a touch more grounded in reality._**

**_Interestingly enough, while I hold _Reinvention_ up as the weakest part of the series, many people have told me that it's their favorite part. Isn't that always the way?. The author becomes popular for the book they think was their worst._**


	5. Chapter 4 - Disbelief

The water roused Robin and his eyes flickered open. He stared at the ceiling in a dazed manner for several seconds, then jerked into a sitting position. Or tried to, anyway. He sort of tipped over and almost fell on the floor, but Bruce caught him and laid him back down.

"Dixie!," Robin said, protesting being laid back down "he killed Dixie!,"

"No," Bruce explained soothingly "Dixie's fine. She's on the mantel, see?,"

Robin looked in the indicated direction, then closed his eyes.

"I guess I'll take your word for it," he sighed quietly.

"Seeing double?," Bruce guessed.

"More than that," Robin put a hand to his head, flinching when he found the bruised area near his hairline "ouch," he added softly.

"Tim, who did this to you?," Bruce asked.

Robin looked up at Bruce, and there was a fear and pain in his eyes. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying in vain to hide his fear from Bruce.

"I didn't... I can't... it... wasn't...," Robin seemed to trip over the words, then stopped, biting his lip.

Bruce set his jaw. Robin didn't want to tell him. Which said more than any words could have.

"Dick did this," it wasn't a question, but a statement "why?,"

Robin swallowed, cleared his throat, then swallowed again. He shifted slightly, then winced visibly, wrapping an arm around his chest and letting out a sharp breath. While Robin attempted to formulate some kind of response to Bruce's question, Bruce took a look at his side. Dark bruising had formed up and down the left side of his ribcage and he responded to touch as if the ribs were cracked. Before Bruce could comment, Robin had found his voice.

"He was... drunk," Bruce's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything, so Robin went on "he called me to bring him home from a bar. He seemed... drunk, but I didn't expect... then he attacked Dixie and... I don't remember much after that,"

Hearing her name and breaking out of her screaming trance, Dixie flew from the mantel to the couch. She looked down at Robin, who smiled in relief at the sight of her. She was a pain in the neck and sometimes he hated her and wanted to kill her himself, but he didn't know what he'd do if anything ever happened to her. Dixie whistled a few bars of her favorite song, then looked down at Robin with a bright eye, head tilted to the side.

"I'm alright, Dix," Robin said "but one thing I can't do right now is whistle,"

As if she understood this, Dixie turned herself around and began repelling down the couch until she reached Robin. She climbed up onto his chest and he flinched, but didn't try to push her off. Instead he put a hand out to her, which she nibbled gently and then pressed the top of her head to in order to encourage him to rub her head.

"Good girl, Dix," Robin breathed, seeming to forget Bruce for a moment.

His eyes were on the parrot, but it was clear he was reliving the events of the night before, struggling with his incomprehension of what had happened, trying to reconcile his image of his brother with the attack, and failing miserably at it.

"I don't understand," he whispered finally, though for a moment Bruce wasn't sure if it was directed at him or the parrot "I know him and Dix don't get along but... I didn't think he'd ever hurt her,"

His voice expressed the anguish he felt and the hand he was using to pet Dixie was shaking. Robin was used to being attacked, even to being defeated, but not by the people he trusted the most. He looked so small and fragile that, for a moment, Bruce barely recognized him. He hadn't seen that scared little boy in years.

"He called himself Shikra," Robin went on, falling back into memory, trying to hide his fear by petting the bird and gazing fixedly at her "he said they eat robins. I... I thought he was going to kill me. That he had... Dixie," his voice cracked and he stopped speaking.

Bruce wanted to lie to Robin, to tell him it would be alright, that Nightwing would never get the chance to do it again. He wanted to say something had to be wrong with Nightwing, that they would find out what it was and fix it and everything would go back to the way it was.

But he couldn't. He didn't have to say what he was thinking, but he couldn't just lie to Robin, or give the boy false comfort or hope. Truthfully, he wasn't so sure there was anything wrong with Nightwing. Something about his voice, his eyes, his manner. They were all Nightwing, distinctly and definitely Nightwing. Somehow, it just didn't look like anything but Nightwing.

On the other hand, he could think of no reason why Nightwing would ever attack Robin. He'd loved Robin like a brother on sight, they'd gotten along almost from the start. The parrot he understood. Nightwing and Dixie had been going at it since the day they met. Even lashing out at Bruce himself had been nothing too unsettling. But Robin?. And the drinking?.

It was then that the television, which Bruce had forgotten until now, made its presence felt. He had his back to it, but Robin was looking at it and suddenly gave a pained gasp. Bruce turned towards it to see a news reporter standing in the parking lot of a bar. To her left in large, glaring text were the words: Has Nightwing Gone Rogue?.

"_Denise Warner, age twenty four, was found raped and brutally beaten in the parking lot of Marty's Bar, where she has worked for the past two and a half years. Martin Benton, the owner, says that Denise left the bar with, get this, Nightwing, who then returned and got drunk,"_

Bruce powered the set off, knowing the next step would be to show the hospitalized Miss Warner. His stomach twisted at the thought of it. He didn't want to believe it, but there it was, right in front of him.

There was no question about it. Nightwing _had_ gone rogue, for whatever reason. And someone had to stop him, before anybody else got hurt.

Bruce wasted no time canceling the day's meetings and heading down to the batcave.

After he was gone, Tim retreated to his bedroom and changed clothes. He lay down on the bed. His whole body ached and his mind was reeling. He barely even noticed that Dixie had followed him and was now sitting on the nightstand absently playing with a bookmark.

_I don't understand,_ was all Tim could think.

He hoped it would come clear when his head stopped spinning, but he couldn't imagine how it possibly could. The plain and simple fact was that his brother had attacked him, and there had been murder in his eyes. Nightwing had wanted to kill him. Tim wasn't sure why he was still alive, but something told him that Nightwing would be back, that he would try again. And this time, he wouldn't fail.

* * *

_Wayne Manor_

_08:30 AM_

The light streaming through the small gap in the drapes seemed blinding to Dick when he opened his eyes. He flinched away from it, only to discover that his head was pounding. Startled by the pain, he gasped and put both hands to his head, rolling onto his back as he did so, away from the light.

This proved to be another bad move. In his confusion at the migraine, he'd forgotten the wounds on his back. A lash of pain seemed to snap across his back and he rolled over so fast that he fell out of bed and onto the floor. Once there, he was finally able to try and gather himself.

The sting on his back he understood, but the agony in his head didn't make any sense. He was even more bewildered when he touched a hand to his face and felt the hot branding iron feeling that usually accompanies a paper cut there.

Dick took stock of his injuries and let the pain subside a bit before getting sluggishly to his feet. Wincing at every movement, he staggered off to the bathroom. Turning on the light, he was nearly driven back by the intensity of it. He forced himself to open his eyes and look at himself in the mirror and was only half surprised to see scratches on his face.

He didn't remember them being there, but he could feel them.

For a minute or so, he stood there, trying to remember when exactly he'd gotten them and how, but couldn't for the life of him. Eventually he gave up.

He exited the bathroom, wondering if that was a wise idea considering how queasy he was feeling. This proved to be yet another mistake as something hit him from behind. Hit him hard enough to knock him flat on the hall rug.

It felt like there were bees in his head as he looked around for his assailant. Blearily, he noted a figure crouching just a few feet beyond his head. Taking a breath, he gathered himself in preparation for getting to his feet and fighting for his life.

"Stay down!," elements of fury and fear intermingled with the ferocity of the order, but this was not what compelled Dick to obey.

It was the owner of the voice, and the look in Tim's eyes as he repeated the command.

"I said: stay!,"

* * *

Across town, Barbara Gordon had just gotten out of the shower. She returned to her bedroom, wearing a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her hair. She was startled, to say the least, to find Nightwing lying on her bed, evidently waiting for her.

"What are you doing here?," she asked.

Had it been almost anyone else, she would have assumed they had some sort of sick intentions. But she had never been afraid of Nightwing. She'd never had a reason to be. They might have had something once, but they both knew that was long over and whatever it had been it wasn't coming back. They had both accepted that.

Instead of answering, Nightwing just smirked at her. Shaking her head, Barbara threw the towel at him and then went into her closet to get dressed. She sensed he'd followed before he touched her, but she did not anticipate having her hair yanked and an arm thrown around her throat, choking her.

At once her survival instincts kicked in. She lashed out with one foot, but Nightwing pulled her close, preventing her from fighting back effectively. She elbowed him in the gut and he gasped, letting go of her hair, but still holding her to him by the throat.

She tucked her head and bit him, then used her elbow again. She missed, but it distracted him enough that she could throw her head back. She struck against his chin and flung herself backwards. They hit the floor, Barbara on top of Nightwing, who was still holding to her.

"You can't win, bitch," he hissed in her ear.

Anger surged through Barbara and she twisted violently, at last breaking free. She rolled away from Nightwing, choking and gasping, her vision skewing as her brain tried to work without enough oxygen.

Nightwing did not give her time to recover. His boot connected with her ribs and sent her onto her side. He grabbed her hair again and yanked her to her feet. For the first time, they locked eyes. There was a look in Nightwing's eyes she'd never seen before. It wasn't the look of an animal, not really. There was nothing frantic or really crazed in his eyes. Slow, deliberate, fully conscious of what he was doing, but vicious, right to the core.

"So tell me, are you afraid, little girl?,"

Barbara tried to spit, to scream, to do something. But Nightwing caught her by the throat with his hand and raised her off her feet, letting go of her hair in the process. She kicked out at him, her knee connected with his face. He dropped her and staggered back.

Barbara moved to finish the fight, but Nightwing deflected her blow, then hurled her against the wall. As she sank to the floor, her vision swimming, Barbara saw clearly that Nightwing was smiling.

* * *

_**A/N on **_**Reparation**_**: This part of the story was probably a combination of the discarded version of **_**Retribution**_** and the world's abrupt obsession with bullies.**_ _**I knew the moment I started forming it into a coherent story that part 4 was going to be almost sickeningly full of cliches, but that could hardly be helped.**_

_**Unlike it's predecessors, part 4 was little altered from the time it was thought up to the finished product. I did have a bit of an issue with the stupid decisions Robin makes in this part of the story, but he had to make them for plot device reasons (sort of like how in a given Batman show he's unable to defeat a single bad guy so Batman can save him, but if Batman is unavailable he can take on a virtual zombie horde all on his own. Plot device, I'm tellin' ya). Aside from which, we all have our bad days and, considering parts 1-3, Robin had every excuse.**_

_**The only real change was not so much an alteration as an addition. **_**Reparation**_** proved much shorter than originally planned. In order to make it the more standard length I was going for, I decided to have the end of it be more of an extended prologue for part 5 than anything. I had already decided that Bruce would be "dying" in part 5. So I put that portion of the story in part 4. It was probably for the best all around. Though part 5 is somewhat shorter than some of the others, it's better that way. Even as it was, I was very nearly bored of it by the time I got all the way to the end.**_

_**(the author was sick at the time of writing this note, which is why it's slightly less in-depth than it might otherwise be)  
**_


	6. Chapter 5 - Innocent & Guilty

_Wayne Manor_

Tim had heard a dull thud down the hall and gone to investigate. He didn't even feel the fear response happening, not until he actually caught sight of Dick coming out of the bathroom. He hadn't fully believed what had happened until he saw the scratches on Dick's face, marks left by Dixie when she attempted to defend Tim from his brother.

Tim realized he had to strike first, strike hard, and not look back. But Dick went down too easily. He had to have known that someone would still be home, that they would take him down on sight, yet he fell to the floor like a sack of bricks, as if he were totally surprised.

For a second, Tim dared to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was some sort of shape-shifter or something, maybe a clone, maybe... but then he saw the scratches again. Those were real. It brought reality home full force for him. Dick had attacked him. There was no way around the truth of that. He could either keep trying to delude himself or bring this to an end.

"Stay down!," he half shouted when Dick made a move to rise.

Fear coursed through him. Dick was much stronger than he was, faster, more experienced. If he wanted to fight, there was no way Tim could win. Not unless Dick stayed on the floor, right where he was now. Tim had somehow claimed the advantage of surprise. It was the only reason he was standing and Dick was not.

"Stay!," he repeated as fiercely as he could.

At this point, Dixie realized she'd been left behind and set up a terrible screeching. Tim ignored her and hoped she wouldn't eventually come flying in looking for him.

"What's going on, Tim?," Dick sounded genuinely confused, he started to raise his head.

"Don't move!," Tim snarled.

He pulled out his staff and activated the charge, to let Dick know he was dead serious.

"Hey, take it easy. What's gotten into you?,"

Tim decided not to answer that. If he got distracted talking, Dick could easily gain the advantage and overpower him. He had to keep his head.

It was at this point that Dixie flew in. She flew right for Tim, and he was half-blinded by white feathers as she came to rest on his shoulder. He knew he was doomed even before his staff was yanked roughly from his hands.

Dixie shrieked and flew off as Tim was forced backwards into the wall. His own staff was drawn across his neck just below the chin, and it was all he could do with both hands to keep it from choking him. Dixie flew down the hall, then back up the hall, coming to rest on the stair railing, her crest standing straight up and her chest heaving.

"I ask again: what's going on?," Dick sounded reasonable, calm, level headed.

"As if you don't know!," Tim spat.

"All I know is that I have a nail in my head the size of a railroad spike and you just clobbered me from behind and I don't know why on either count,"

Tim struggled for a few seconds more, but it was in vain. His eyes locked with Dick's and he saw the familiar rational, calculating mind there.

"You don't, do you," Tim said, gazing searchingly into his brother's eyes.

As if to confirm it, Dixie abruptly did something which was completely out of character. She took off from the railing where she'd been perched and flew to Dick's shoulder. There she landed, clinging to the back of his shoulder and peering over it at Tim.

"You have no clue what happened last night, do you?,"

Dick shrugged "I fell off a building, you caught me. Tigress and I patched each other up and then went our separate ways. I came home, went to sleep, woke up with a migraine,"

"Even so...," Tim's mind was working, there was something that didn't fit in all of this.

Dixie would never land on Dick's shoulder. The two were always going at it, since the day they met. Even if she did, she would be biting his ear about now. Last night when Tim had been attacked, Dixie had flown to his defense. But not now. Why not now?.

"Then you have no memory of the bar," Tim said.

"What bar?,"

"The one where you raped a girl and then drank yourself into oblivion,"

"I... no," Dick eased up on the staff, then dropped it entirely "I...," a look of shock and unease crossed his face "I couldn't,"

"Come on," Tim challenged "you're saying you never thought about a little violence outside of work?,"

"It's not... it's...," Dick shook his head "I'm telling you... I couldn't have done that,"

"Why not?. What makes you so damn sure?. Because I'm pretty sure I was there when I dragged you out of the bar and hauled you home, only to get beat up for my trouble," Tim was in no mood to be sympathetic, not after what Dick had done.

Dick sank into a sitting position, closing his eyes and putting his hands to his temples. Every word Tim said seemed to have a painful physical impact. But Tim was past caring. He'd been scared, but now he was just angry. Some part of him had been hoping there was some reason this had happened.

Then Dick said the only words which could possibly explain any of it. Said them in a way that Tim couldn't help but believe, in spite of how crazy they sounded.

"Because that part of me... is gone,"

* * *

_Wayne Tower_

_09:45 AM_

"A little early for bats, isn't it?,"

Nightwing stepped out of the shadows of an air conditioning unit, a cocky smile on his face. With him he dragged the unconscious Barbara, dropping her when he'd stepped fully into the light.

"But then I guess the rules never did apply to you, did they?,"

Batman didn't answer, instead changing the subject.

"What did you do to her?," he looked to Barbara.

"Oh, don't worry. I didn't break any of your precious rules," Nightwing replied "after all, I was only trained not to kill people. But breaking their bones is okay,"

"Not innocent people, and you know it," Batman retorted.

"Who in the world is innocent?," Nightwing scoffed "you?. Me?. We're just deranged people living in a mad world full of psychos just like us, all pretending to be perfect and to care about others when the real truth is we just don't want to get hurt,"

"You don't have to go down this road," Batman said "Let me help you,"

"Help me!?. Haven't you done enough damage yet?!. This situation here, the one you're so upset about?. You _did_ this!. You made me into this!. Don't you understand that!,"

"No, you're wrong," Batman disagreed "something happened to you,"

"Damn straight!. It was you," Nightwing snarled "you know I'm right,"

"I talked to Tigress. She said something happened to you, a flash of light. Remember that?,"

"You think a flash of light did this?. You think I've been hyped up on some super drug?. Look into my eyes and tell me if my crazy is real or imagined. Tell me I don't mean what I'm saying,"

"Nightwing...,"

"It's Shikra now, if you don't mind,"

"Fine. Shikra. What did you do to Barbara?,"

"Oh, nothing much. Just got into a fight. I won by the way. Funny how liberating it is to go after somebody who doesn't want to hurt you when you don't feel the same way,"

"Dick, you have to stop this. Let me help you,"

"I'm not the one who needs it," Before Batman could call out a protest, Nightwing... Shikra had grabbed Barbara by the back of the neck and shoved her off the roof.

He then stood back and watched Batman dive after her to save her. By the time Batman returned to the roof, Shikra was already long gone.

The radio Batman carried with him chirped. When he answered it, he found that Tim was on the other end of the line. He said a single sentence

"_You need to come home right now,"_

* * *

_Batcave_

_10:30 AM_

It had been a stressful few minutes when Batman first arrived and caught sight of Nightwing. He had left Barbara, dressed as Batgirl, at the watchtower to be cared for while he tried to sort out just what was going on and what it was he should do about it.

Robin found himself having to hurriedly explain that the Nightwing Batman had faced off with on the roof of Wayne Tower was not the same one that was in the batcave. He had done this by comparing times. While waiting for Batman to return, he had hacked into the security computers for Marty's Bar and found the footage from the night before, which confirmed that Nightwing had been in the bar and at Wayne Tower at the same time. He had also been with Robin when Batgirl was attacked, and when Batman met his doppelganger on the roof.

When the tension had cleared from the room, Robin and Nightwing filled Batman in on all they knew. When Robin got to the part about recognizing the scratches on Nightwing's face, they were all in for something of a surprise.

"I guess if you hurt one of them, you hurt both of them, or something," Robin shrugged.

"It's worse than that," Batman replied "Shikra didn't have any scratches on his face,"

"So he gets into a fight, and I get the scars from it," Nightwing said.

"Which will make stopping him very difficult," Batman commented "any injuries inflicted on him will eventually transfer to you,"

The three of them were quiet for a few moments as they attempted to comprehend and absorb the utter bizarreness of their situation.

"So what are we thinking?. Dark clone?. Evil twin?," Batman asked.

"No," Nightwing said quickly "something happened to me. There's... some part of me that's missing. I could feel it, but wasn't... sure, I guess, about what it was that had changed. But after what happened in the office building, I was... indecisive, and afraid,"

"Total crap at fighting the Hydra too," they all jumped at the sound of a new voice at the head of the stairs.

Tigress was there, and behind her stood Alfred.

"I let her in, Master Bruce,"

"That's fine, Alfred," Batman replied "another witness could be helpful,"

"You mean a more objective one," Tigress countered.

"That too. So, what can you tell us about what happened last night?,"

"Other than the fact that Nightwing suddenly went complete pacifist on me, not a lot," Tigress sighed "then I heard the news this morning and knew something was up, so I decided to come over. I wish I'd gotten here sooner. Maybe could have stopped what happened to Batgirl," seeing baffled looks, she explained "I talked to the watchtower on the way over,"

"So now what do we do?," Robin asked.

"Shikra is probably tired, he'll hole up until nightfall," Nightwing volunteered, then added uneasily "at least, I think that's what he'll do. Probably,"

"Okay, you're going to have to stop that," Tigress said.

"Stop what?,"

"Second guessing everything that comes out of your own mouth. Other people do that. But not you. Never you,"

"Well I do now," Nightwing replied "I guess I always have,"

"So what is Shikra then?," Tigress asked, changing the subject, sort of "your darker half?,"

"More specific than that," Nightwing told her "he's the parts of me I never wanted anybody to see,"

* * *

_**A/N on **_**Resurrect****ion**_**: Before you ask, yes, yes **_**Resur****rection**_** was basically just an excuse to make Dick become Batman and take over Wayne Enterprises for awhile.**_ **_I have no excuse, other than the fact that it was quite amusing to write. Which is, as you should know by now, the only excuse for any part of this story._**

**_Some people asked about "the rest of the bat family". As Dick was the center of that story and Tim came up several times, I suspect they meant "where's Batgirl?". The answer to that can be either 1. She doesn't actually *live* in the same houses as they do, right?. I mean, she's got her own life and stuff to do, it's not like her father just died. Or 2. (this one being the correct answer) I despise the character of Batgirl so much that you should be glad I didn't simply kill her at any point in the series (like this particular chapter of part 7 for instance. And don't think I wasn't tempted). True, she was at her least annoying in _Young Justice_, but I'm prejudiced against her because of what she's like in... yeah, I'm goin' with every other series she's ever been in._**

**_One of the most difficult things about writing this story was that I was watching _Smallville_ at the time. You know, before Lex became evil. You wouldn't believe how many times I had to correct "Lex Corp" into "Luthor Corp". As a result, Luthor might have been a little overdone as I tried to compensate for the Lex on the surface of my mind not being evil._**

**_(and yes, I'm still sick, so this note is probably less interesting than it might be. However, I wrote the note for _Recollection_ a week ago, so it will be much longer, for those of you who might be bothered to care)_**


	7. Chapter 6 - Bitter Truth

_Watchtower_

_09:30 PM_

Batman had decided that there was virtually no chance of them finding Shikra while he was in hiding, and so waited for nightfall before going out to look for him. It was generally agreed that Nightwing should not be involved. On the one hand, it would be nearly impossible to tell one from the other in a fight. On the other, Nightwing's own indecisiveness and hesitation could get them all killed easily.

Even in his somewhat damaged state, Nightwing could understand and agree with that. A moment's hesitation or uncertainty would be all it would take, and his confidence had been all but spirited away. Whatever Shikra's faults were, hesitation was not one of them.

To ensure that Nightwing behaved himself, Robin accompanied him to the Watchtower, where he then removed Nightwing from the list of people who could travel via boom tube. Shikra was not on the Watchtower, and now could not access it at all. Nor could Nightwing leave without first hacking the system.

"I still can't believe I did this," Nightwing said bleakly, gazing at a television screen which was showing a repeat of the earlier report of the attack on Denise Warner.

"It wasn't you," Robin replied.

"It was," Nightwing insisted "at least it was a part of me. Part of me is capable of this...," he broke off, shaking his head, then looked at Robin "and that doesn't scare you?,"

"Should it?,"

"I am... was... capable of committing rape and murder and God knows what else!. Of... being the very thing you've sworn your life to defend the world against," there was shame in Nightwing's voice, admitting that dark part of himself even existed was hard.

"You remember when I was turned into a monster, right?,"

"Of course. I also seem to recall being a dragon," Nightwing replied.

"Then you should also remember that I not only killed people, mauled them to death, I...," Robin's voice cracked and he took a deep breath before going on "ate them,"

"You weren't yourself, it wasn't you fault," Nightwing said, resisting the urge to question his own assertion, a temptation he'd been feeling a lot today.

"And yet I still have nightmares about it," Robin replied "Almost every night, I dream about what I did... remember, what I did. I _enjoyed_ it. And sometimes I wonder what it would be like to do it again, to feel that again,"

"But you're not about to become a cannibal, right?,"

"No," Robin agreed "I'm not. And I'm disgusted by the part of me that even thinks about it. But that doesn't make it go away. And that's not what matters. Before this happened, when you were in one piece, you were not a rapist. You did not attack your own team mates,"

"I just put them in incredibly dangerous situations," Nightwing countered.

"That's in the job description," Robin told him "We also see a darker part of ourselves than anyone else in the world. When I'm facing down a villain, you think I don't think about revenge?. The line between revenge and justice is so paper thin nobody really even seems to know where it is. Every day I wake up and think about the times I've gone so close to the edge I could taste it, and I wonder if maybe I crossed it and just didn't realize. Every. Single. Day,"

"Robin...,"

"No. Don't say anything. It's not just me that feels that, I know. We have darkness in us, all of us. Incredibly intense, vile blackness that every day tries to swallow us up and make us into the very monsters we're trying to fight. And the only people... the _only_ people... who will be angry with you for this, are the ones who refuse to admit to themselves that some part of them is capable of being just as vicious, just as brutal and just as treacherous as Shikra,"

"So what should I do?," Nightwing asked.

Robin almost wanted to laugh. Nightwing asking his advice seemed absurd and that he was actually giving it out was even more ridiculous. The only thing that kept him from it was that exposing his own personal darkness had made him feel vulnerable and he had expected a more shocked reaction from Nightwing than the one he was giving. Until he'd said it out loud, he had been terrified that Nightwing would not understand, that his own soul was too dark for even Nightwing. He had never spoken to anyone about his nightmares, or what he felt in them. He was too afraid of being labeled as a monster, afraid of being seen as different. He was already so alienated from the world, the team was his last refuge, Nightwing, Batman and Alfred were his only family.

He was afraid that they would turn him away if they knew the truth. At first, he had been appalled by Shikra, until he saw in the man his own black soul reflected back in dark indigo eyes. The look Shikra had was not that of Nightwing, but the look of the beast within Robin's own soul. Inside the soul of everyone, hero or villain. What made him different from Shikra was not that he never had those thoughts or feelings, it was that he did not choose to act upon them. And neither did Nightwing.

"Batman and Tigress will find Shikra," Robin said slowly "they will figure out how that machine works, and they will put the two of you back together,"

"What if I don't want to be with Shikra anymore?,"

"You know as well as I do that, without your own sorrows and fury inside you, you can't hope to understand anyone else. You need those demons inside so you can have compassion for those who allowed theirs to take control of them. And you also need them so you can do what must be done,"

"You mean kill?,"

"You know we have to sometimes. With or without Shikra, you have to know that. People die, and sometimes we're the ones who kill them. The part of you that's capable of making that judgment, that allows you to risk the lives of others as well as your own, is in Shikra right now. It's nice to think the world is a happy, flowery place, but we both know it just isn't so,"

Nightwing was quiet for a long moment, then he shook his head and smiled.

"When did you get so damn smart?," he asked.

"I learned from my brother," Robin replied earnestly, then added "so... are you going to go talk to Batgirl?. I hear she's awake and Kaldur says he told her everything that happened. That he knows, anyway. I may have left Shikra's direct connection to you a little vague,"

"I am probably the last person in the world she wants to see. Even if she thinks it wasn't me who attacked her... I look just like him... I... am him," Nightwing swallowed hard "how can I ever face her again, knowing that I could do that to her?,"

"You already knew," Robin said "you just hadn't admitted it to yourself,"

"But she didn't, and I can't lie to her,"

Robin sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling, half hoping there was some perfect answer scrawled there which he could then read to Nightwing, instead of trying to think of the right words himself. Nightwing had never been open with his feelings like this, at least not with Robin. He had never sounded so afraid or uncertain. Robin wanted to tell himself that it was just because Nightwing was missing a part of himself. But that was a lie, and he knew it.

"So don't," Robin said finally, looking Nightwing in the eye "she will either understand, or she won't. I can't promise you either way. But, for what it's worth, I do understand. And someday, whether it's today or years from now, so will she. Because she's got the same hell in her that I do, that escaped from you. And even if she doesn't know it already, someday she will. Everybody in this line of work has to face their demons sooner or later,"

Nightwing nodded, swallowed hard and took a deep breath, nodded again, but still didn't move.

"Do you want me to go with you?,"

"No. I don't think so. Do I?,"

Robin smiled and gave his brother a friendly shove.

"Go with your gut instinct. If she tries to brain you with her bedside lamp, I'll be nearby,"

"Oh your a lot of help," It was clear that Nightwing was only being half-sarcastic.

Finally he got up and walked out of the room. Robin watched him go, hoping that Batgirl would be understanding. He knew that the worst thing that could happen to someone was to be turned away just for having something dark inside them, even if they never acted on it. Especially if they were shut out by the people who meant the most to them.

The second worst thing was keeping secrets from and lying to your family. In spite of the fear he'd felt in revealing his own secret, he'd felt free and relieved in a way he hadn't thought was even possible. Nightwing knew now, and didn't hate him. Not because he even now had those demons inside, but because his were roaming the streets, forcing him and everyone else to see them.

_Nobody_, he thought, _deserves to have their insides ripped out and put on display like that_.

* * *

Nightwing knocked on the door, then hesitantly entered the hospital-like room. Batgirl was sitting up in bed, an IV hooked up to her arm. Her face was pale, save for the dark bruises which had formed on her right cheek, near her left ear, on her forehead and around her neck.

"Hi," Nightwing could barely choke the word out, his gaze searching Batgirl's face for some emotion, be it anger or fear or hate, hoping that perhaps there might be forgiveness there.

He knew she must know the entire story before he would really see how she felt. When she maintained her unreadable expression, he gestured towards the door.

"I could go-,"

"No, it's okay," Batgirl said, her voice sounding dry and scratchy.

"No it's not," Nightwing told her, unable to help but flinch at the injured sound of her voice "I am... so sorry. This should never have happened,"

"It's not your fault. You couldn't have known-,"

"It is," Nightwing interrupted "my fault,"

Batgirl's brow furrowed in confusion, but it took a moment before Nightwing could find it within himself to continue his explanation. He took a deep breath, then launched into the story from the beginning. He could see the change in Batgirl's face, and more than once his voice cracked. She would hate him now, how could she not?. When he finished, Nightwing saw no sympathy in her eyes, heard no trace of forgiveness in her voice. In fact, her tone was flat, her expression unreadable.

"I think you should go," she said quietly "I need some time. So... go,"

"Right," Nightwing nodded, trying to swallow the pain her words inflicted "I understand,"

He turned and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. He closed his eyes and leaned against it, then slid to a sitting position on the floor, his legs feeling too weak to support him any longer.

_God, what have I done?. What am I?._

He received no answer to these questions, perhaps because he already knew the truth. And he knew also what it was that he had to do. And he knew he could not do it alone.

* * *

_Gotham_

_10:15 PM_

Batman and Tigress might have thought they knew where Shikra would go, but they were wrong. When their hunches didn't pan out, they decided to go have a look at the device which had caused all the trouble to begin with.

"This looks like the prototype," Batman said, after examining both machines "which means that what we're getting with Nightwing and Shikra is probably not what the actual intent for the device was,"

"It was used on a creature. It looked like one killed the other," Tigress told him.

"From what we've seen, that means the more aggressive persona is the one still alive," Batman replied "It seems like they were trying to separate the passive from the aggressive,"

"The passive one takes all the damage when the aggressive goes out to fight," Tigress theorized "not only that, but with the passive also being on the skittish and indecisive side, it would be much easier to contain than the other,"

"Obviously something went wrong,"

"How do you mean?,"

"One of them killed the other one. And, from your experience, it can now be injured,"

Tigress thought that one over. It looked like Batman was right, as usual. Whatever this lab experiment was, it had gone completely wrong.

"Do you think you can find a way to... put the two halves back together?," Tigress asked.

It was pretty clear that one half without the other wasn't good, no matter which half they were talking about. Tigress felt like she would prefer Nightwing without homicidal tendencies, but those seemed to be linked to his ability to make command decisions and look at his team objectively.

She didn't always like the way Nightwing handled things, but she had learned to respect it and trust his judgment, even on the most dangerous missions. She knew that if he ever asked her to die, it would be because there was no other choice, and because he knew that she was willing to make that sacrifice.

But as he was now, it was clear that he could not make that impossible decision. He could barely decide whether or not to cross the street, forget figuring out who needed to be where to accomplish the mission.

Before Batman could answer, a call came from the watchtower via the radio.

"_You asked us to keep an eye out for Nightwing on the news,"_ Flash seemed like an odd one to be on watch duty, but he was nonetheless _"if you're near a television set, I think you may want to see this,"_

There did happen to be a TV in the office, though not in the room they were in. Turning it on, it didn't take them long to find the channel. Tigress wasn't sure what she had expected, but it hadn't been this.

"_I'm reporting live just outside the Gotham City Police Precinct, which has been evacuated because of a fight going on top of the roof. You heard right. I don't know if you can see from this angle, but it looks like Nightwing and Robin are having a falling out, and nobody is going to stand in their way,"_

"Why there?," Tigress wondered aloud.

"Why not?," Batman returned.

It was true. Though officially the police were interested in arresting vigilantes, the truth was that nobody in their sane mind would touch one with a ten foot pole, no matter what they thought of them. As Nightwing and Robin had no superpowers, it might seem ridiculous to evacuate an entire building. On the other hand, both were undoubtedly armed with enough explosives to take the place down.

And, even from a distance with a grainy video feed, it was clear that the two of them were doing more than just disagreeing. They were getting ready to wage war.

"That has to be Shikra," Tigress said "but where's Nightwing?,"

She didn't voice her other question. Why wasn't Robin with him?.

"We have to get there. Now," Batman growled.

He didn't add that this was one of his worst fears coming to life. Robin didn't stand a chance against Nightwing, even a demented one. Shikra was sure to kill him.

* * *

_**A/N on**_** Recollection**_**: I tend to regard humor as I might a rabid dog. I want to like it, but it's sort of diseased. I enjoy humor with other things. I like action comedies and sometimes like the comic relief character if he isn't too incredibly obnoxious (which most of them are). For this reason, I didn't go into **_**Recollection**_** intending for it to be a comedy.**_ **_It was not written as one, which is why it may seem somewhat lacking in the humor department._**

**_However, looking at the absurd plotline and the overly intense presence of the parrot after finishing it, I knew it could be little else but humorous. Parrots are great characters, even fictional ones, mostly because they do what they want and defy explanation (in spite of the thousands of books and websites devoted to explaining their behavior). However, they tend more towards the comical than the dramatic, though they can be incredible drama queens when it suits them to be._**

**_Actually, Dixie was originally meant as a background character, sitting on the shoulder of Meekus and sometimes laughing at our hero's plight. But instead, I thought it would be fun for Robin to have to deal with her while trying to escape Meekus, who for some bizarre reason thinks Robin is a bird. The chain of logic in this story is broken at best, stuck together with the duct tape of "this man is insane"._**

**_This part of the story was my greatest release of emotion, oddly enough. Because Buddy was lost, rather than dead, it was some time before I managed to come to terms with it. For a long time there was the hope that he would just come fluttering back and all would be as it had been before. I had to actually let go of that anticipation, to realize that he wasn't coming back._**

**_This story allowed me to realize that. To realize how long it had been since he'd been lost, and accept the inevitable. There is no closure when someone or something just wanders out of your life, there's always the faint thought that they might someday wander back in again. If you don't close that book and stop that expectation, you can find yourself waiting for years, weighed down by the loss because you're ignoring it and hoping that it will go away._**

**_But enough about that._**

**_I did some surface research on bird traps. Some of the traps described are quite real, others are modifications of real traps. Robin's attempts to gain Dixie's trust were inspired by actual experiences I have had, or experiences people have told me about. The tactic that actually works in the end is a variation of how I went about winning Buddy's trust. I was fairly young when he joined the family, and wound up doing some things that frightened him. So while he trusted everyone else, he wouldn't come to me. The song I wound up whistling to him was "row row row your boat" because I suck at whistling and that's the only song I can whistle reliably._**

**_What for Robin took minutes, took me a couple of weeks, and Buddy never did progress beyond the first few bars of the song. But that's okay. I haven't read about that technique in any book and, at the time, hadn't read any books about birds. But it worked and that's all that matters._**

**_I chose a cockatoo because, next to cockatiels, that's the parrot I know the most about. I also knew the bird needed to be slightly bigger than a cockatiel. Aside from that, the cockatoo was my introduction to parrots via the books by Enid Blyton and the Red Skelton movie. As a side note, my introduction to cockatiels was an episode of _Lost in Space,_ though I didn't know it until much later because it was supposed to be an alien bird and so was not labeled as such._**

**_When I designed the cage Nightwing and the others were kept in, I intentionally ignored certain necessities because they lent nothing to the plot and really would be too boring to describe. The seeds were relevant. I also thought they were funny. Then again, the concept reminded me of the tendency most parrots have to throw things. For instance, Buddy liked to fling his seeds off onto the floor so he could "forage" for them later._**

**_Finishing the story, I decided I could do little else but call it humor, in spite of the fact that I could think of two types of people who probably would not find it amusing:_**

**_1. People who have never had a parrot wouldn't understand the parrot jokes._**

**_2. People who do have a parrot and therefor don't find such jokes funny._**

**_That added up to pretty much everybody, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to care._**

**_I also realized something else on finishing the story. Though I had meant it to be the end (because I was getting tired of the series), what with Meekus being the one designing the formula and now being imprisoned, I realized it was so off tone from the rest of the series that it would be a poor ending. And so, with no ideas at all, I started work on the 7th, and final, part of the story._**

**_I had no idea what I was going to do. It seemed like everything had already been done._**


	8. Chapter 7 - Let it Be

_Gotham City Police Department_

_10:15 PM_

"Robin, the little bird. Can't say I expected that," Shikra purred.

Robin stood with his bo staff drawn, eyes narrowed. He didn't answer. Though outwardly he looked calm and collected, inside his stomach was tying itself in knots. There were so many things he didn't like about what he was doing. Disobeying Batman being one. Facing Shikra again being another. He knew he wouldn't get flattened as quickly this time as last time, but it still couldn't end well for him, especially considering that any damage he inflicted would quickly shift to Nightwing, leaving Shikra unharmed and still battle ready.

"Just how stupid are you, anyway?," Shikra asked, slowly starting to circle Robin, who turned with him and backed away to maintain a semi-safe distance "we both know how this will play out. I win, you lose. We've practiced a million times over the years. What do you think you're doing?,"

"You know that I would die for you," Robin said by way of response, measuring his words carefully "that I would lie and even kill for you. The leader of my team, and my brother,"

"Very cute, do you plan to give me the 'but you can't do this' speech?,"

"No," Robin replied "I intend to kill you,"

Shikra might have laughed, had he not seen the flash in Robin's eyes. Robin was not kidding.

"You know Nightwing has to die first for that to happen, don't you?," Shikra asked, but now his tone was uneasy, some of his self assurance had left him.

"I know," Robin answered coldly "and I also know that he, you, were willing to kill me when I became a monster. That is what you have become, Shikra. A danger to this city, a threat to its people, not to mention the team itself. You taught me that saving the people we care about is worth any price,"

"Really?. That's what you're going with?. That's the best you could come up with?," Shikra growled "that pathetic little cliched speech is all you have?!,"

Robin's eyes seemed to be alight with an inner fire, perhaps it was rage, or maybe something else. Neither of them said anything for a long moment. They were completely still, gazing at one another as enemies, not for the first time, but probably for the last.

It was Robin who made the first move, thrusting with his bo. Shikra blocked the attack with his eskrima sticks, then shoved Robin back. He followed his defense with an attack of his own, which Robin defended against. Shikra's strength and speed were greater than Robin's, and they both knew it. His moves were more advanced, more practiced than Robin's too.

"Give up now and you'll die quick," Shikra snarled.

"I can't do that," Robin retorted, pushing Shikra away from him.

There was no pause to catch their breath or take in the strengths of their opponent. Each knew the other's moves as if they were his own. To give the other a moment to think was to give them an advantage. And even the smallest advantage in this conflict would prove deadly.

Robin resisted the temptation to throw down smoke pellets. They would cloud his vision as much as Shikra's and, with this particular opponent, would do more harm than good. He did make an attempt to put some distance between himself and Shikra so he could put his birdarangs into play.

But as he flipped backward, Shikra pulled out a batarang, throwing it with pinpoint accuracy. Turning in the air with the agility of a cat, Robin was still unable to completely clear the blade. He came to land awkwardly on one hand, dropping into a roll immediately and escaping additional batarangs by mere inches. For a moment, he lost track of Shikra in concentrating on avoiding the blades.

Shikra saw his opportunity and, a heartbeat after throwing the last batarang, he closed in on Robin, delivering a heavy blow aimed at his adversary's head as a follow through to his attack. Robin sensed the danger and dodged, but the blow struck his shoulder. Knocked off balance, pain crashing over him in a wave, Robin fell to his side.

Shikra moved to deliver a killing blow, but was interrupted by the sharp note of metal singing through the air and imbedding itself in the roof with a harsh chunk noise. Gleaming silver, half vanished into the ground was a batarang. Not just any batarang. The sort of batarang Nightwing used.

Temporarily forgetting Robin, Shikra turned towards the source of the object. Standing at the edge, his own weapons drawn, was the other. Nightwing.

Though he had been aware, intellectually, that Shikra existed as a separate entity from himself, Nightwing had been unable to fully believe it until this moment, looking into the eyes of that other person, knowing they were a mirror of himself, his darker half.

All the internal conflict he felt normally, was suddenly right here, directly in front of him. He could no longer beat it back with reason or sheer force of will. This was a fight he could not win, any more than Robin could. Shikra possessed his calm, his calculating mind, his confidence. Hesitation was his worst enemy, and it was something Shikra did not have.

Robin took the moment of silence to regain his feet, to back away from Shikra. He took his eyes off Shikra, and looked to Nightwing. _We can do this_, he told himself,_ we have to do this._

"You think you can beat me together?," Shikra laughed suddenly, addressing Nightwing "any injury he inflicts on me goes right to you!,"

"Not if I'm dead," Nightwing replied evenly "and you'll kill me before you lay hand on him again,"

For the first time, there was a flicker of uncertainty in Shikra's eyes. A moment, no more than half a second, where he looked afraid. Nightwing missed it, too absorbed in his own fear to notice Shikra's. But Robin did not. He saw opportunity, and took it.

Charging without ceremony, he struck the electrified end of his staff against Shikra. Shikra reacted with pain, dropping to one knee, then turning to push the staff away with one of his sticks. Seeing an opening, Nightwing came down on Shikra from the other side.

Outclassed by virtue of numbers, Shikra fought his way clear and lunged backward to put some distance between himself and his enemies. Nightwing and Robin moved to the side and circled him, preventing him from making an escape, and closing in like a pair of wolves looking to make a kill. Shikra, within Nightwing, had been hunted before, but never had he felt exposed like this. Maybe it was because he was now being hunted by himself.

He looked away from Nightwing, knowing there would be no mercy there. He looked to Robin, but saw the same stoic determination in the younger boy's eyes. The fear which had been present in Robin's face earlier had all but gone, he was wholly focused on his goal, every movement was about taking down Shikra, right down to each breath he took in. And Shikra could see it. He felt that he stood a better chance with the hesitant and uncertain Nightwing than he did with Robin. Nightwing possessed the skill, and Robin the resolve.

Then Robin spoke. Nothing in his demeanor changed, and his voice possessed the same intensity as everything else about him. He spoke in a low voice, with slow measured words.

"You can't kill Nightwing, can you?. You can't because you're more than just his confidence and his vicious streak. You're also his self loathing. The part of him that hates what he does, that despises everything about himself," Robin said.

Shikra opened his mouth to refute that, but Robin didn't pause long enough to allow him to. Even as Robin continued to circle Shikra, looking for an opening, he attacked his adversary with one of his most effective yet underrated weapons: speech.

"I don't believe any part of Nightwing does anything without purpose," Robin went on evenly "not even you. Everything you've done is to make us turn on Nightwing. To cause those who most trust him to question that trust, to attack him without stopping to think. To destroy him, one way or another. But you can't do it yourself. No, because then you'd have only one person left for all that hate. You don't hate me, or Batgirl or anyone as much as you hate yourself,"

"Shut up!," Shikra snarled, but there was fear in his eyes.

"Without Nightwing as your enemy, all that would be left is self destruction. Without him, you die. If you didn't kill yourself, we would. The only reason you exist is because he does too," Robin ignored Shikra's interruption, but began to speak more loudly to discourage further protest "you need him to survive!,"

"No!. Being locked up inside isn't living," Shikra protested.

"And this is?. If you're so happy about what you are now, kill Nightwing. Go ahead. And see how long it takes me to cut your throat," Robin shot back.

Nightwing lowered his weapons uneasily, allowing Robin to take lead. He had no other choice really. For a moment, Shikra looked as though he would do exactly that. But when he didn't move for several seconds, Robin spoke again.

"I didn't think so. Even as screwed in the head as you are, you're not suicidal," Robin said quietly "in spite of all that anger and hate. You're willing to die, but not to outright kill yourself. Not for no reason,"

Shikra clenched his jaw and took a deep shuddering breath, glaring out of the corner of his eye at Robin, refusing to make full eye contact, a cunning look in his gaze suggesting that he was not defeated, that he was still looking to kill Robin, and escape from this fight unscathed.

"So what?," Shikra spat through his teeth "just let you put me back in there, place the genie back in the bottle, stuff a cork in and forget all about it?,"

"You cannot survive, Shikra. Not out here," Robin said "You're everything heroes fight against. If you continue on your present course, you will be killed. Maybe not me. Perhaps Batman, or Tigress. But sooner or later, we will catch you, and we will kill you,"

"So you suggest I go back to prison?,"

"You know as well as I do that's where you belong," Robin replied "you cannot be allowed to roam free. Without conscience, without remorse. Just... evil without purpose. A destroyer,"

"I don't want to be in a cage," Shikra told him.

"I don't care," Robin returned without compassion or sympathy "you are a danger to the people I'm sworn to protect. You will go back in your cage or you will die. Those are your only options,"

Within Shikra was more than Nightwing's self loathing. Though Nightwing was in possession of his doubt and most of his fear, there was one other corner of himself Shikra now embodied. Shikra was terrified of dying. Fear of death was a tiny part of Nightwing, a piece of himself he never showed. But it was every bit as real as the rest. If he had been whole, Shikra would have preferred death to confinement. But as it was, he was too afraid to die. Nightwing was at the moment more afraid of living than dying, but was too indecisive to do anything about it.

"As you say," Shikra said at last, lowering his weapons "I have few options,"

By the time Batman and Tigress arrived, it was already over.

* * *

Back at the office building/laboratory, Batman worked to unravel the secrets of the machinery. Tigress, Nightwing and Robin stood by, keeping a close eye on Shikra, who for his part sat quietly, a hollow look in his eyes. The eyes of one who knew there was no escaping fate. He did not look as though he would try to run, even if he were given the opportunity. And he wouldn't, though none of them trusted in that except perhaps Robin.

As he had said, Nightwing never did anything without reason. Each and every action was planned, performed for a specific purpose in order to achieve a desired end. To run would serve no purpose, Shikra knew. He had always known it, but it had been Robin's words which forced him to face that fact. He knew he was too dangerous to be left alive. He knew too many secrets, and there was no chance for redemption because the only parts of him that were willing to be redeemed were in Nightwing. He was a creature of darkness, of a purer strain even than the most vile and detestable villain.

Shikra was a creature without soul, without conscience. All villains had a conscience, even though they chose to ignore it. Shikra didn't even have that. He knew the Justice League and the team too well to have the illusion that he could hide from them. There would be no escaping, especially not from Robin, who seemed to know him better than he even knew himself.

At last, Batman looked up from the unholy wedding of circuits and computer chips that made up the machine's core. He didn't have to speak to let them know that he had finished his work.

"We have no way of testing this," Batman told Nightwing and Shikra "I can't guarantee that either of you will survive,"

"Isn't that always the way?," Shikra growled "for all the training and the experience it always comes down to a slim chance of survival,"

"In the end," Nightwing replied "the game is always about luck,"

"Don't talk to me about games," Shikra snapped "I know all about your damn games,"

"Shikra, you stand here. Nightwing, you go over there," Batman interrupted.

Everyone drew in a tense breath as Shikra moved towards the machine. Even though he had been completely disarmed, it would only take one kick for him to smash some vital part of the machine. So easily could he destroy it and, with it, all hope of them getting Nightwing back.

Once the two were in place, Batman flipped a switch. As before, the machine hummed. It lit up, dimly at first, then brighter and brighter, until even Batman had to close his eyes against the glare. The humming grew steadily louder reaching a deafening crescendo which all but blocked out the convulsive screams of anguish that were ripped from those in the machine's thrall.

Then, in a moment, all was still and quiet.

They blinked in the darkness, their eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden lack of bright light. When they could finally see, they looked to the center of the machine where Shikra and Nightwing had been.

There was now only one figure, dropped onto his knees, folded up on himself, arms wrapped around his chest and head almost touching the floor. With the humming silenced, they could all hear choked whimpering sounds, akin to sobbing, but containing within them more pain than simple tears could.

It was Robin who moved first, kneeling beside his brother and putting a hand on the shaking shoulder.

Nightwing managed to find his voice, but was unable to speak. He tried several times, but could barely form a word before choking on it. Each attempt sent a spasm through him, as if it were physically painful to try and give voice to what was going on inside.

He didn't have to, because they all knew. With the rejoining of Shikra and Nightwing, he now possessed the memories of both. He not only knew what Shikra had done, he felt it, every raw emotion that Shikra had felt, from pleasure to pain. And, because Shikra was a part of him, not every fiber of his being was capable of being repulsed by it. Which was, perhaps, the greatest hurt of all.

Knowing that some part of you is capable of atrocities is nothing compared to having committed them, knowing they were wrong, hating yourself for it, but being unable to be completely in agreement with that hate, because a part of you still enjoyed it, and would do it again.

"It's okay," Robin whispered "We understand. It's alright, just let it be,"

* * *

_**A/N on **_**Reflection**_**: What could I do?. I'd done away with Meekus, who was the guy creating the formula. I toyed with the idea of him escaping, but what would he do?. It's not like Luthor would take him back after all that. Maybe he could be coerced into making the formula for someone else, but really, what would be the point?. Especially so soon after.**_

**_I didn't really have any ideas, so I sat down to think of something which might be somehow slightly surprising after everything. But, after you've thrown heroes in prison, turned people into dragons, shot a superhero with a regular everyday gun, killed Batman, and had Robin mistaken for an actual bird, what's left?. Obviously, only one thing could surprise anyone at this point, and that was for Nightwing to have a fear of heights. Yep.. that's all I had. The prologue._**

**_Initially, Nightwing wasn't split in two, and there was going to be some vague hinting at what brought him to that point, trying to somehow justify his totally out of character fear of heights. Robin was going to go after the Hydra, sort of be the main character and, all in all, it was extremely bad. Not that my regular work is especially good, but I knew I could do better._**

**_I just... wasn't entirely sure how._**


	9. Chapter 8 - Return of the Hydra

_Gotham_

_December 21__st__, 01:37 AM_

"You sure you're ready for this?," Tigress asked, eying her friend with some concern.

She had not forgotten the pain that had been in Nightwing's eyes two days before. Nor had she forgotten that he had been shaking, unable to look any of them in the eye or speak to them. She would never be able to forget.

She also had not forgotten what Shikra had done, what some part of Nightwing was capable of doing. She almost wished she could hate him for it. But she knew in her own heart that she too had a darkness within, a monster inside which would never die. The desire for not just vengeance, but for the very act of violence itself was in her just as it was in Nightwing. Just as it was in all of them.

The only difference between her and Nightwing was that the cage for his beast had been ripped open and it had been set loose in the world. There had been nothing he could do to stop it. But now it was back in its cage, though Nightwing still clearly suffered for it, in more ways than one.

But in his eyes now there was no uncertainty, and the light of humor which was so much a part of him had returned to his eyes. Behind that were shadows of sorrow and pain, but that was normal for him. Nightwing, like all of them, had his own burdens, his own secrets, his own demons to fight and his own pain that he had to bear.

"That snake-lizard made a fool of us, and now it's just wrecking the city for the hell of it," Nightwing replied in answer to her question "don't you think it's time we finished what we started?,"

When Tigress still hesitated, Nightwing flashed her a confident smile, then threw himself headlong off the side of the building. Using a combination of grappler and agility, he swung and landed on the roof of the next building over. He looked back to see if Tigress was following. Shaking her head, she plunged after him.

It was clear that, whatever he felt, Nightwing did not want to talk about it. Very typical. And, frankly after everything that had happened in the last few days, Tigress was very much reassured by that. The more Nightwing acted like he usually did, the better she felt.

Nightwing slowed his pace, looking over the sides of the building as though checking his surroundings. But, in reality, he was allowing Tigress to catch up. Once she had, he resumed his headlong and fearless plunge through the dark. He not only knew every inch of the city's rooftops, he had every confidence that, should something be different from how he remembered, he had the ability to recover.

Tigress knew of no one else, even Robin, who could so boldly plunge from the tops of roofs, the grand top of the world that was Gotham, falling through the air in near darkness often unable to see where he would land until he was mere feet from it. The plain truth of it was that nobody was exactly like Nightwing and, if anyone were more confident than he was, it would have to be Batman. But Batman's caution tended to be greater than that of Nightwing. Nightwing was young and, for all his experience and intelligence, he was still more impetuous than any senior member of the League.

As they neared the location of the latest report of the Hydra, Nightwing slowed and became more cautious. Carefully, he circled the area, sharp eyes taking quick note of any and every sign that the Hydra had been there. He now knew with grim certainty that this creature had to die.

It was only half of a whole, the worst half, immune to the cure because of it and vicious beyond redemption because it had already destroyed its own better half. He had been undecided before, and his new found confidence didn't make him feel better. He knew it was his darker half that gave him his willingness to kill and his desire to leap into battle. It was because of Shikra that he now found himself ready, almost eager, to kill the Hydra.

There was another reason he wanted the Hydra gone. Though he knew it was irrational, his mind had tied the Hydra to Shikra, and he wanted more than anything to leave that experience far behind him. So long as the Hydra lived, so too, in a strange and completely insane way, did Shikra.

Nightwing knew it was nuts, that it was the sort of madness that could prove to be his own downfall, but he didn't really care. He was back to doing what he did best, and that was protecting his city and keeping his own demons at bay, making sure they never knew the freedom to wound the innocent or even turn his vigilante justice into a sick kind of revenge.

He knew it was a fine line he would be walking tonight. And maybe it was too soon. That dark part of himself was more alive than ever before, its call stronger than he'd ever known it to be. But, on the other hand, he could not permit the Hydra to roam free. It had moved on from destroying buildings and cars to attacking people, to killing them.

That was something he could not permit to continue. The Hydra was his failure, and his alone. He alone had allowed it to go free. And he would bring it down. Had he thought he could kill it by himself, he would not have asked Tigress to join him. Or maybe he would, knowing she would not forgive him for going on this particular venture alone. They had started this fight together and she no doubt wanted to be in on the end of it as much as he did.

Nightwing's almost quivering eagerness was not lost on Tigress, but it didn't bother her. She felt it too, felt it every time she was on the trail of a villain. She actually regarded Nightwing's new attitude with tremendous relief. It had been difficult working with him when he was so undecided. He hadn't been dependable in a fight. He was now, fully committed to the objective and mission.

It was Tigress who heard the distant roar of the beast they sought. She was not sure of what she'd heard, but waved Nightwing over, then stood stock-still, listening hard, barely daring to breathe. When the roar-hiss-snarl, a sound now familiar to both of them, came again, they reacted in perfect tandem with Nightwing taking the lead and Tigress following close behind.

It didn't take long to find the Hydra, parked in the middle of an intersection, flicking creeping late-night drivers into walls, hissing and snarling with its many heads. It had more than when they last met, and Nightwing wondered what had happened to cause the extra heads. It now possessed a total of five, each of which appeared to move independently.

He also wondered how and why the beast had been able to hide the past few days.

"This is ridiculous," Tigress commented as they both took a moment to absorb the scene "we catch criminals, we're not monster hunters,"

"Well tonight," Nightwing returned good naturedly "we're monster hunters,"

Without waiting for a response, he leaped in closer to the Hydra, flinging a handful of batarangs before him. One found its mark in the beast's hindquarter, but then it snapped the others to the side with a powerful sweep of its tail.

Tigress drew her sword and eased around to the opposite side of the intersection as the great behemoth turned its long body to face Nightwing, who stood waiting passively for it to do so. They had but one real hope against the creature, and that was to inflict lethal damage on something other than its head. Nightwing was not equipped for that.

He could wound the Hydra, but it seemed unlikely that anything in his arsenal would be able to deliver a killing blow. Perhaps, if this was their first encounter with the Hydra, Nightwing might have called for backup. But this was personal, both for him and for Tigress.

At the same moment, Nightwing and Tigress closed swiftly on the Hydra. Four of its five heads were swung to watch Nightwing, but the fifth recognized the danger to its back. Fortunately, though it had separate heads, the beast was still one creature.

It reared upright as Nightwing swept towards it, flipping over its back and lashing out with a pair of batarangs, one he threw, the other he used as a knife, sinking it deep into the creature's hide, then holding on. The thrown batarang dug into a muscle of the animal's right shoulder and it roared in pain. As it convulsed, Tigress swept in, sliding beneath its belly, sword upraised, slashing deep into its soft underside. As she cleared it below, Nightwing released his hold and leaped away.

As the Hydra roared and tried to sort out its own pain, they closed again, repeating the actions but in reverse. As Nightwing slid under the Hydra, he had time to pull out one of his stuck batarangs and retrieve one from the ground. Tigress pulled another from the creature's back and threw it to Nightwing as she completed he own attack.

These were moves they had practiced before, adjusted slightly from practice and tailored to their adversary, but all the hours of practice, the years of working together in the field, it made each movement fluid and natural, as each anticipated what the other would do.

They circled the creature, not daring to execute the same attack a third time, a bit frustrated that what they'd done so far seemed only to further anger the monster, doing little to bring it down. Switching to tactics of a more psychological nature, they darted in, making shallow wounds, dodging back before a clawed forefoot or snapping pair of jaws could get at them.

It was a method as old as nature itself, the same wolves used to bring down caribou, the same which could be seen in sharks when in a feeding frenzy. Moving in swiftly, doing as much damage as possible in the least amount of time. Get in, get out. Enough wounds would inevitably bring even the biggest of monsters to its knees.

There was danger in this attack. Because of its many heads, the Hydra could see them both coming at the same time. They had to be alert to block a counterstrike before even completing their attack. Any mistake on their part would end in death.

There was no question that this was the goal. This was the final fight, and even the Hydra knew it. There was no retreat from this, no regrouping. It ended here and now.

At last, panting, both Tigress and Nightwing backed off. The Hydra still stood, eying them with cold reptilian eyes. All creatures born of darkness as this one was were survivors. They had not expected it to be easy. But it was now looking to be impossible. The creature arched its necks, swiveling its heads this way and that, prepared for another onslaught.

Nightwing checked a bleeding cut on his arm. It wasn't bad, and he didn't even really recall getting it. He could see a similar cut on Tigress' forehead. The Hydra had taken the worst of the damage, but Nightwing and Tigress were only human. They could not hope to withstand the beating the Hydra had already taken.

Nightwing's mind was already looking for another solution, even as he began to circle the Hydra once more, again looking for an opening to strike. Tigress, on the opposite side, mirrored his movement, both eyes on the Hydra, who kept its body rigidly still even as its heads tracked both her and Nightwing. Both heroes gave the whiplash tail and clawed forelegs an extra wide berth.

It was Tigress who moved in first. From his angle, Nightwing saw the creature begin to shift towards her, and made a swift decision. Moving in faster, he kicked the animal right in the ribcage. It was a soft spot, but it also put him right in the middle of the creature's body. Its tail swept in from one direction, a pair of heads swung in from the other.

As Nightwing tried to get clear, the tail caught him, striking with a harsh snap. Nightwing hit the ground hard and it was all he could do to roll clear as the first head drove into the asphalt to crush him. The second followed, and there was no time to get clear.

Then the air was cut by the singing knife-blade note of a batarang. It sliced through the air and impaled the Hydra's neck. The diving head jerked back, stricken. The other spasmed in sympathy. Nightwing used the few second's of the creature's distraction not to escape, but to take full advantage of the opening he'd been given.

Pulling out the last of his batarangs, he dove in for the soft underbelly and drove the sharp object home between two of the creature's ribs. Even as he did, Tigress came from the other side, burying her own sword in the Hydra's chest. She pulled back then, realizing the animal was too busy writhing in pain to attack, she took another stab at it.

The Hydra reared, taking the sword with it. It teetered on awkward hindlegs, then rolled to the side with a groan, falling to the ground with a sickening crash, its impact powerful enough to crack the asphalt and send dust and debris flying everywhere.

Tigress shielded her eyes, and waited for the air to clear. The beast lay dead at her feet.

As she looked around, Tigress suddenly started to feel uneasy. Where was Nightwing?.

Then she let out a sigh of relief as she saw Nightwing disentangling himself from one of the Hydra's huge clawed forepaws. He shook himself like a wet dog, as if to be sure he was free of it. A bit bedraggled perhaps, but otherwise unharmed.

Nightwing looked around as though puzzled. Tigress wasn't sure what he was looking for, but before she could ask, Batgirl appeared out of the shadows, smiling cheerfully.

"You looked like you could use some help," She told Nightwing.

Tigress noticed that Batgirl maintained her distance from Nightwing, but that she was speaking to him at all was something of a surprise. It was evidently more of a shock to Nightwing who, for once, had nothing to say in response. He just stared at Batgirl, then at the Hydra, then nodded helplessly.

"So, anymore dragons to slay?," Batgirl asked "or can I quit for the night?. I don't know about you two, but I am starved,"

"That was... um... just the one," Nightwing tripped over the words, evidently still coming to terms with the fact that Batgirl was talking to him.

"I know a great all-night diner," Tigress changed the subject before Nightwing could further embarrass himself "what say the three of us head there for a victory dinner?,"

Nightwing shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how Batgirl would feel about sitting at the same table with him. He needn't have worried.

"Sounds great," Batgirl smiled brightly "what do you think?,"

Forced into coming up with a response, Nightwing looked blank for a moment. Finally, he found his voice, and managed to prevent it from wavering.

"So long as nothing on the menu resembles bird seed," He replied quietly.

Batgirl, for some reason, found this immensely funny. Tigress had all but forgotten that Nightwing had not so long ago found himself held captive by a lunatic who believed him to be a bird. She laughed too, mostly because Batgirl's giggle was infectious rather than because what Nightwing said was funny.

"Come on," Tigress said, giving Nightwing's shoulder a shove "I promise there won't be any bird food in the diner,"

* * *

_**A/N on **_**Reflection**_** continued: I didn't strike on the answer to my problem until I was sifting through **_**Rei****nvention**_** for typos for the last time before posting. At the same time, I was putting the finishing touches on **_**Res****urrection**_** before uploading it. I noted that I had not once, but twice, hinted at a much darker side of Nightwing than we've seen.**_

_**Sometimes you add something to a story to make it more compelling, without realizing that it will become the key to a future part of the story. I can't tell you the number of books I've read by a favorite author where the background character in one story is almost word for word the main character in another.**_

_**I now had two choices, both would be painfully obvious. One, Nightwing could just go darkside. Two, I could do the old sci-fi trick of splitting a personality in two. There's only one practical way to do that, which is into basically good and evil. It's not an especially good way to do it. I feel that you could be just as confident only being good as being evil. But it's a stronger story if you portray it that way, where evil winds up with all the strengths, minus morality.**_

_**So then all I needed was a name so the reader could tell one from the other (once you've got Nightwing fighting himself, that could become extremely confusing very quickly. "And then Nightwing punched Nightwing, but Nightwing ducked and then tripped Nightwing and then-" the author and reader's brain both explode. Yes, that's what comes next). The name Shikra was chosen because it was one of the more intimidating sounding birds of prey. Yes, Red Tailed Hawks are cool, but really, what kind of name is that?. You're just gonna get called Red. Or Hawk. Or RTH. And I'm pretty sure most of those are taken.**_

_**The idea of having Shikra's wounds transfer to Nightwing was mostly because I felt Robin needed something to actually trigger his attack, like a cold splash of water in the face. You know how sometimes you do something, then feel guilty about it afterword?. That's basically your evil part doing something, and then your good part dealing with the aftermath, right?. It made sense to me, so I ran with it, and didn't bother explaining it to anyone. Just because.**_

_**I had a pretty good thing going, though I still had a nagging doubt. Meekus should have been the end of the story, right?. Now how could I possibly end a story, which had clearly passed its ending and kept right on going?.**_


	10. Epilogue

_Batcave_

_04:32 AM_

"Good evening," the deep bass voice greeted Nightwing.

The voice belonged to Dixie, who normally spoke in higher pitch, almost squealing squawks, but prided herself on saying 'good evening' in the creepiest voice imaginable. Nightwing had to grin at the absurdity of the scene before him.

Robin was doing a single-hand hand stand, resting his full weight on his right hand. He'd evidently been at it for awhile, as Dixie had chosen to fly over and perch on one of his boots. She sat there with her head tilted downward, dark eyes gazing critically at Robin like a demented drill instructor.

Nightwing stayed still and quiet so as not to startle Robin, who slowly switched hands, placing the palm of his left hand on the ground and carefully shifting his weight to the left. As if to help him along, Dixie began to lean to the side, croaking low in her throat. Even as Robin's weight shifted, his left arm trembled with the change. He'd barely gotten his right hand off the floor when the whole works came tumbling down and he landed roughly on his head.

Panicked, Dixie took flight and swept around the room, screeching. Robin, for his part, spat out a choice curse and picked himself up, rubbing his arm absently. Something about the disgusted expression on Robin's face made Nightwing laugh. Robin looked up sharply, then glared at him.

"Easy for you to say," Robin grumbled "Between Dixie, Meekus and you, I'll probably never be able to use this arm properly again,"

Robin's left arm had definitely been put through some trials of late, but it wasn't as bad as all that and they both knew it. As if to confirm that, Robin grinned, then shook his head in surrender.

"So, how'd it go with the Hydra?," he asked, switching the subject.

"Agh," Nightwing sighed, sinking into a chair, then added "but we took care of it, with a little help,"

"Oh?. From whom?,"

"Batgirl," Nightwing replied.

Robin looked up from his arm as if he thought Nightwing might be joking. Seeing that this was not the case, Robin took a seat on a corner of the massive computer desk.

"I told you she didn't hate you," Robin said "you're no darker inside than she is,"

Nightwing didn't answer for a moment, looking thoughtful. When he did speak, his words were slow, almost hesitant.

"I remember being the dragon," he said "I remember... all these animals fleeing at the sight of me. They didn't run from you. And... sometimes I wonder why not. Now, I think I know,"

Robin raised a questioning eyebrow, but said nothing.

"If not for the fact that I was partway cured already... I would have become... I don't even know. Worse than you could ever be. Worse than Shikra,"

"So?,"

Of all the things Robin could have said, that one word was what Nightwing had expected the least. He tried to think of an answer to the question, but really... he couldn't.

"So you could have become a demonic hell beast," Robin said finally, breaking the uneasy silence "so what?. I was a hell beast and I ate people. And yeah, I'll have nightmares about that for the rest of my life. I won't ever be able to escape what I did in those few days. What I became. So what do I do?,"

Nightwing took a breath, then rolled his eyes and sighed, half smiling.

"You go on," he said reluctantly.

"And guess who taught me that," Robin grinned.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?," Nightwing shook his head.

"Boy wonder," Robin replied "if you tell anybody I said that though, you and I are gonna have problems,"

Robin was right, no matter how Nightwing felt or what he thought, there was only one course of action open to him. And that was to go on. To be what he'd trained his whole life to be. Demons inside or not, there was only one thing he knew how to be, one way he could live his life. Behind the mask was his life, his whole reason for continued existence.

For Nightwing, the last few months had been somewhat hellish, but they had also made him remember that he was alive, and glad to be that way. He still missed Wally desperately, and every day wished his old friend was once more by his side. And he would forever bear the scars left on him by Shikra, would always have with him the nightmare of what a part of him was willing to do, to become.

Dixie flew out of the shadows suddenly and landed on his shoulder, breaking him out of his reflection. He was somewhat startled that the bird had come to land on him.

"You knew all along, didn't you?," he asked the parrot "that's why you always hated me. You could see that darkness in me for what it was, even if nobody else could,"

"Fetch the police," Dixie replied conversationally.

"Those scratches she left will probably scar," Robin said "those could be interesting to explain years from now when some sidekick asks,"

"Nah," Nightwing said after a moment's consideration "probably won't be quite that noticeable. Still, getting scars from a parrot, didn't see that one coming,"

"Bird brain," Dixie interjected.

"Hey, do I call you names?," Nightwing protested.

"Yeah, you kinda do, actually," Robin volunteered "a lot,"

Nightwing scowled at Robin, then shook his head and grinned. It felt good to be whole again, even if a part of that whole was made of evil. He was also glad that Shikra's little outing had apparently done nothing to damage the relationship between himself and his brother.

"This isn't the end," Nightwing said, turning serious suddenly.

"I know," Robin replied "there's still the mystery about that building and what they were trying to accomplish there, not to mention-,"

"No. I mean beyond that," Nightwing interrupted "what we do. It will never be over. There will always be more evil, there will always be more schemes to unravel, people who think they're above the law. There will always be tyrants and criminals,"

"I know," Robin said mildly.

"And so you know, also" Nightwing went on " that this job _will_ eventually kill us both,"

"Yes," Robin replied quickly, a strange... almost bright look in his eyes.

Nightwing puzzled over his brother's expression for a moment, then realization dawned.

"And that doesn't scare you even a little, does it?,"

Robin shook his head, his earlier humor replaced by complete seriousness.

"Why not?,"

"Well," Robin replied slowly "I know that, we were meant to do this. And whatever life we have, however long or short, and whatever we do... in the end... it will have been enough,"

Nightwing nodded, understanding.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly "enough,"

* * *

_**A/N on **_**Reflection**_** concluded: The answer, ladies and gentlemen, lies in the final episode of**_** Young Justice**_**. There is no end. There will always be good and evil, another crisis just around the corner, everyone will always have their struggles. The only real ending for any one character would be to kill them off. But, in the world of comic books, cartoons and superheroes, even death is hardly the end. There are countless ways to revive a character, or have it turn out that they weren't really dead in the first place. Even if it were, that would be the end for one hero, or one villain. There are hundreds, maybe thousands. The world does not begin and end with any one character.  
**_

_**So, how does one go about ending a story, which has no end?. Very simply. Whatever they write, wherever they finish, however their last thought on the story unravels, it will have been enough.**_

_**So, will **_**Re**_** continue from here?. I can hardly answer that. I truly think that I have finished with the series, but I've thought that before. Only time will say for sure. I go where my imagination takes me, write what's in my head. Who's to say where I'll go from here?.**_

_**Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story. Also, thank you kindly for all the reviews, I very much enjoyed reading them. And now, I take my leave of you. Goodnight, everyone.  
**_

* * *

**THE END  
**


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